Beach Glass

I would like to think that one of the things that goes towards making you a good person is the desire to share your good fortune with others. There are many other attributes of a good person and I'm not really sure where good intentions fit in. Probably somewhere between helping the sick and eating your kid's Halloween candy to prevent them from getting cavities. I'm going to guess about a third of the way up the list.

Whenever I have gone to Las Vegas I wish that some of my friends and family would be there so that I could show them the magic and experience it anew through their eyes. Most people that have reached a certain age and have never been think that since they don't drink or gamble it wouldn't be fun. I thought that way myself, but was happily proven wrong. I admit that it isn't for everyone, but I am also sure that everyone can find something that will make their hearts glad. Perhaps they will find Vegas in their next life.

Every morning while I am in Paradise, I like to begin the day with a walk down the beach. At this time of day the ocean is relatively calm with just a gentle lapping of waves on the shore. There are other early risers strolling along the beach to wish "Good Morning" to and sometimes a magical conversation erupts. Sometimes it is just a nod and a smile. Sometimes they look like miserable bastards and it is best to avert your eyes lest you get sucked into a bet where you will lose your soul.

 There are four types of people in this world. Those that look forward, those who look at where they have been, those that look up and those who look down. The ones who look to either side I lump in with the forward people, although they might deserve a category all their own. I have always been a person that looks down. I think it began as a letter carrier and I was trying to avoid stepping in dog shit. Now, I like to walk along and see what is at my feet. I look ahead so that I know where I am going from time to time, but there are so many fascinating little things in front of your toes.

I carry this to the beach of course and if you take the time to look, the beach has a world of beauty right at the high tide line. I particularly like the small shells which have infinitely different shapes and colours. There is the odd dead fish, tangled fishing line, abandoned flip flop and an assortment of washed up garbage. Thankfully, this beach I am on has very little garbage washing up. What I really look for is beach glass.

Beach glass comes from bottles that drunken teenagers, adults and tourists toss in the ocean where it is broken up by the surf, rounded and polished by being tossed about in the waves. Most beach glass quickly becomes beach, but some of it is rescued by sharp eyed down lookers like myself. Other years that I have come to the beach I have found quite a bit of glass, it gives me something to do on my walks. This year there doesn't seem to be very much glass on the beach.

While walking, I like to speculate why this would be. Do you think the local teenagers have given up underage drinking in favour of being responsible for the planet? Has the love for this tropical paradise convinced the adults living here and visiting that the ocean is not only beautiful, but it is also not a garbage dump. I suppose t the tides and currents that have in the past worked together to bring glass to Sugar Beach have somehow altered and now drop the bulk of the glass further down the island coastline. One woman I talked to a couple of years ago thought that there would be less and less Glass because of the way glass is manufactured now. It is much thinner than ever before and just can't withstand the pounding in the surf, becoming beach far too quickly.

Personally, I prefer to think that as I age my eyes just can't see the tiny, glittering gems scattered amongst the flotsam on the beach. I have a friend who loves the beach glass even more than I do and I dearly wish that it were possible for her to share my search with me. Her husband would start out on the beach with us but would soon find something amazing to photograph and drop behind our slow amble. We would weave back and forth following the high tide line along the beach and every now and then bend over to pick up a small, glittering piece of glass which would be brushed off and put in a pocket to be admired back at home.

Maybe I will have company the next time. Maybe it is a solitary occupation and I am destined to scour the beach like a prospector of old. Maybe I'm just "nuckin futs".