Seaglass

Cold water flows through my sandy fingers as I sift apart the translucent gems from the smooth pebbles and sand.The round stones roll off my fingers and palms like beads of water off a hot griddle and expose the newly discovered treasures.

I set carefully aside my wave-tumbled jewels and mindless grab another handful of salty grist as I feel for more. My eyes wander out to sea; past the sandbars with pools of warm sea water teaming with periwinkles and miniature crabs. Nearby, a half-submerged prehistoric horseshoe crab drags its heavily armored body deliberately through shallow water on a purposeful but unknown course. It leaves behind a distinctive trail in the underwater sand that lasts far longer in memory than time.

I realize that much like the beach rocks, this crab’s relatives have been here long before humans ever breathed the salty air and will continue to patrol the coastal shores long after the last human has exhaled their last breath. And this moment is all that matters to me. I will not waste the brief time together we now share.

Past the sandbars lies the unexplored sea and dreams that are yet to be. The sun begins falling from the sky and causes the vast expanse of water before me to light up and glow. All the while, the stones in my fingers fall away leaving gleaming jewels in my salty palms. The light flashes off them like a solar system in my hand. I admire them briefly and set them on the sandy towel.

The day is long but time is short and without my industry, the summer would seem to take forever. Then the moment its end is near, all I crave is one more day.

But for now, I have all the time in the world. And all that matters is in my hand and buried in the sand beside me.

Lunchtime comes and goes and the ice cream truck plays its magical tune for all the other children with the means to buy treats on a whim. I wonder how that would one day feel but my pile of sea glass is my treasure so I lay my head down on my towel for a moment to daydream but instead take an unintended nap.

The sweet salty air washes over me while the sun heats the earth and I quickly drift away to the sounds of a distant AM radio, children playing in the waves, and a powerboat speeding in the distance.

I wake softly and gently extend my arm as the sun-baked salt pulls at my skin as I feel my way across the war and fuzzy towel eventually reaching my stockpile of treasure. I carefully caress and study each piece and memorize every contour, every crevice, every beautiful feature and flaw. I savor how they can be both coarse and smooth at the same time. Holding two or more in my hand, they grind against each other in the most pleasant way. I wonder, if given enough time, I could change the course of their wear significantly enough to shape them. Perhaps into an exotic beast like an elephant or a penguin.

I smile with the satisfaction of a day spent in the sun by the sea collecting treasure with all the tie in the world to savor all the beauty around me. I drift away again with the jewels still in my loose grip.

Abruptly awakened by the cold water of the rising tide quenching my sun-warmed feet, the tone in my mother’s voice causes me to involuntarily panic. I gather quickly my treasures and towel and retreat away from the rising water. A few feet is all it takes to make it to safety and I sit back down as quickly as I jumped to attention. I find the jumbled baubles in the corner of the salt-washed sandy fabric but they’re changed.

They’ve lost their luster; their sheen. They’ve become dull and whitened. Almost bleached, they’ve lost their glow unless the sun is directly behind them.

They’re ugly. Junk. I carelessly toss them back to the rocky sea and hear them breaking on half submerged boulders. Although the value of the treasure was dear, it was also short-lived. I tossed away all but one particularly rare- the head of a bottle made of thick green glass so familiar.

It remained in my pocket while we gathered our belongings and followed my mother back to the car like ducklings reluctantly leaving a pond. We silently climbed into the tailgunntr seat in the back of the Country Squire and look out the back window at the darkening beach and the glowing sun rolling past the horizon. I feel an unfamiliar sadness and have no idea that I would never be back again.

This is Summer’s End for me and even as I promise to return to this patch of paradise, I immediately break that promise for the rest of my life. There was always a reason I couldn’t return; work, life, exotic vacations... things I was convinced I should want. But just like that seaglass I cast back to the sea, I didn’t recognize that the treasures I had amassed didn’t compare real treasure until it was far too late to retrieve it.

Artwork by Betsy Barry.