Welcome to Edges Like Sea Glass, a blog about life, love, travel, home and garden…
The name comes from my hometown of Mattituck, New York. I love wine tasting at the local vineyards and walking down Love Lane where, even after all these years, I rarely go without seeing a familiar face. But more than these, my favorite thing to do is walk along the shorelines. The beach has been home to some of my deepest revelations and most precious tears. I’m not content to just watch the waves roll in though. I go to the beach to look for sea glass.
Sea glass is a phenomenon known mostly to those who live near the water. Nature has a lovely way of making art out of what was once discarded. Waves smash bottles to bits against the rocky shore, tossing them about with the ebbing of the tides, and as pieces are scraped back and forth across the sand, the edges turn from razor sharp to velvety smooth. The sheen of the glass turns matte and porous, and the result is a jewel amidst grains of sand.
People may think it’s odd to wander the shore, head to the ground, eyes peeled for something totally insignificant compared to the vast sea, but it’s a spiritual experience for me. I have many rough edges of my own that the waves of time continue to soften. Everyone gets broken sooner or later. Relationships fade. Someone close dies. A job ends. A trusted friend becomes unreliable. Harsh words fall upon vulnerable ears. The heart is in a constant state of transformation as life batters and blows. I can think back to specific times where I was broken. These were tough times where I felt defeated by love and life. But I’m thankful for those moments. I’m on the other side of them now. I can look back and see that through the healing process, some of my rough edges were smoothed away. I’m sure that more brokenness lies ahead of me, but it’s comforting to know that through pain, beauty can be born.
These entries are markers of time, experiences, rustlings within, and also reminders of the work it takes to maintain a home and create beauty in a garden. They are the “waves” that soften my own edges…