What is it about those little gems on the beach? The weathered pieces of glass that have traveled unknown distances and landed on the sand right where we walk? They seem to call to the sun, asking it to reflect just so for a moment, so that I can notice the tumbled history before me and add it to my collection. Each piece feels like it has a multi-layered story to tell.
Sea glass is fascinating to me because its beauty is dependent on its imperfections. Sea glass wears its experiences and obstacles for all to see. The rougher the seas were, the more sand and grit it encountered, the more beautiful it is.
Are we all like that? Do our difficult journeys add to our beauty? Do they soften us, round us out and make us blend just that much more to our surroundings? Do we speak to those around us without saying a word because of the sculpting, soul-shaping things we've seen?
We have an antique milk bottle filled with sea glass sitting on our kitchen windowsill. I like the connection between the two - the milk bottle tells of times gone by, but it survived its journey fully intact. Each piece of sea glass was broken away from its original form at some point, but it is now more stunning than it ever could have been when it was whole. Its difficult journey turned it in to a more perfect imperfect being.