Glass Beach and Kaleidoscopes

Two Saturdays ago, when my sister was in town, we spent the day on the coast. There is a beach we always visit. Glass Beach. Its name comes from the tiny pieces of broken glass that are mixed in with the millions of small pebbles that cover the shore. There is some sand further up the shore, but right along the water's edge you'll only find the mixture of smooth rocks and colored glass pieces, that are equally smooth and polished. 

I don't know if my memory betrays me, but every time we go back it seems that there are less and less colors to enjoy. I admit I may have something to do with that... somewhere in an old box, I probably have at least a dozen camera film containers filled with colorful rocks that I collected during my childhood (well... and beyond). Blues and Purples, Reds and Greens. But, sometimes the colorful rocks did get used, rather than collecting dust. Once my dad rigged up some homemade kaleidoscopes, using the colorful glass bits. Seriously amazing.

Anyway, I think this trip may have been the first visit to Glass Beach that I only admired the rocks and left what colors remain to be admired by all the other visitors. 

This past weekend I wasn't at Glass Beach. But, I had this strange sensation that on a different sort of plane, I was wandering down a similar shore. And just like the Glass Beach from my childhood memories, this shore was covered with the most beautiful stones, even mixed in with pure gems and the most valuable of treasures. For two full days, among a limitless array of treasures, I collected as many as my hands and pockets could carry... filled to over-flowing. Now, the task - to arrange them into something beautiful and useful, a sort-of kaleidoscope.

These treasures are much too valuable to sit in an old box, under my bed.