Day 93: Love and Seaglass

It's the first brilliant day of Spring and it feels like summer.  Nearly seventy degrees on the coast and families just pile onto the beaches.  A mass of winter-white bodies in capris and burmuda shorts.  And dogs, lots of dogs.  We strolled the beach together, sans Micky (his hey-you-forgot-me barks can be heard even after our feet hit the sand).  And because we can, we walk the five mile stretch at a crawl; Rich poking at any shelled creature he can get his hands on, me hunting for sea glass.  I love sea glass.  Not the manufactured packets of tumbled sea glass that you can find in any craft store. I much prefer the natural sea glass- even as I realize what a complete contradiction this is.  A wave on another shore catches a bottle and carries it away.  The elements rough house against the glass, tossing it, smashing it,  and grinding it against rocks and cliffs until it is spit up on the Maine shore, completely beat-up and soft around the edges.  Sea glass may be the one bit of beauty that evolves from litter.  I have a handful by the end of our walk.  Browns and greens, milky white pieces and one chip of blue.  I tuck them into my jeans pockets and they push against the fabric making me feel like a kid who's pockets are filled with things their mother will toss when she does the wash. 

But I know that we're all like these pieces of glass, so I stop again to pull out my treasures and examine them closely.  We're all products of our environment.  We're scratched and we're broken. In fact, our original innocence and texture is not even recognizable anymore. And to the rest of the world we may be just another piece of litter that has washed up on some public beach.  But to someone, to one person, we are a treasure.  We are a take-me-home-and-keep-me-always kind of treasure.  Not because of the bottle that we once were, but because of the sea gem that we are today.  And I know that's what love is about.  It's loving the people- the person- that we have, not for who they once were, but for who they are today.  Soft edges and all.