O to the C

To be honest, there are days I wish I had fallen madly in creative love with gemstones or beads or paper clips. Something with the promise of uniformity, relatedness or the availability to be ordered up in perfect sets of two. Seaglass comes to you randomly and utterly without organization. The protracted process of getting seaglass readied for jewelry is washing, then wrangling imperfects, then sorting by color on a big covered table.

Spread out like a rainy day game, anyone passing by is invited, ne encouraged, to make observations and arrange the seaglass pieces. So as to pique interest and not overwhelm visitors unaccustomed to the ritual, I might purposely select less abundant secondary colors; “funny blueish-greens” or “not quite whites”. Plastic bins once containing pre-washed spinach now elevated to holding seaglass are hauled down from the shelf and dumped on a white towel. Good light is crucial, but sometimes a special calibration of coffee and rum can aid color perception and lend a festive air to the proceedings.

Winter-escapees visiting us during high season sometimes develop a fixation and keep sorting well after the sun has begun to set, secretly guaranteeing themselves return use of the guest room. If they ask whether obsessive compulsive disorder is contagious, I just smile and spill out another container of seaglass.

“More ice in your drink?” I ask.


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Naked Beach

This weekend the moon obliged with a special trick. December 12 marked a Perigean Tide; when the moon is at its perigee (or closest to the Earth), and the gravitational forces of the sun and moon complement each other. Creating the greatest tidal range possible, Perigean high tides combined with strong winds can result in flooding. But the low tides are bewitching - - - pulling the ocean away from the beach's edge so its shells, seaglass, bits of coral and reef life are casually revealed. This oceanic striptease makes the alluring treasures all the more tantalizing.

Here in Puerto Rico, many beaches have long been considered mecca for seaglass hunters, and I am lucky enough to live in proximity to some of the best. Seaglass from the Western side of the island is prized not only for its especially well worn shapes and gem-like colors, but its age and links to history. Legends of pirates and sunken ships abound.

Customarily, a low tide brings out droves of seaglass hunters: both casual beachcombers and professional "pickers". On Saturday, thanks to a driving rain, my favorite stretch of seaglass gathering beach was blissfully vacant. Leaving me to merrily splash about in a shallow, slightly murky pool of swirling ebbing salt water. Squinting for the tell-tale glint of surface frosting or a bright flash of color against the beige sand and dark grey pebbles. Intent on the mission, dripping wet, pockets full.


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Tidings

I love the hunt and gather side of making seaglass jewelry. It is contemplative and meandering. I often come up with my best design ideas while wandering around the tidal pools; nudging shells aside while keeping a watchful eye for sea urchin spikes. I never really thought of seaglass gathering to be a group activity.

Until Lily.

Friendly, loyal, super cute and a lover of shallow water. She is our newly adopted “sato” (or street-dog) and the beach is her true home. Though she gets a run of some miles every morning, she will not abide being left behind if there is an excursion to be had. Precious time spent finding and fixing small fencing gaps proves utterly futile. She can hear the gate creaking shut from across the property. Next thing you know -- you’ve got company. We often compete to get to the same sand puddle first. Guess who always wins?

The approach of Christmas has me feeling indebted for our health and happiness. I am especially grateful for simple delights. My daughter’s silly giggle, the twinkle of holiday lights, walks on the beach and a new furry friend to share it with.

I wish laughter, warmth and light to all.


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