And as we walked, we would pick up these smooth, many coloured fragments of glass. For decades this was an activity involving pleasant sea-side walks of almost meditative quality. Our eyes became adjusted to picking out the washed up glass pieces in amongst the sand and shells.
And our collection grew.
The water-filled jar in this picture is one of two jars in which we saved our pretty treasures. The appearance of this jar gives an indication of its age. How long ago must it have been that my (then) small (and growing) children helped to gather up these fragments?
Years, years and years.
My adult daughter has recently resumed an interest in the glass pieces, as she thinks that they might contribute towards making some captivating modern jewellery.
I’m not so sure.
I’m also not sure that I wish to have these mementoes from long ago beach walks to be made into something that may not be appreciated for their age and meaningfulness. They seem more worthy to me.
Each piece of glass must have its own story to tell of long ago. Some may have been in the sea for decades, coming and going with the tides. I wonder how many of them began as shards - or were they maybe just broken bottles dropped along the shoreline? And how many began their journey landwards from ships at sea.
If only they could talk!
Sadly, smooth coloured glass fragments don’t seem to be as easily found along beaches any more. As much as glass shards must have (originally) presented a danger to bare feet in the sand, the modern day washed up, partially crushed, soft drink cans and the horrendous supply of waste plastic pieces present far more danger now.
A pity that!