Last night the Crankee Yankee and I took a drive by the ocean. We had been out to dinner at one of our favorite places for seafood, and, since it was such a beautiful and warm evening, we took a drive by the ocean.
It was one of those days that I wish I was an artist and could paint what I saw. The sky met the ocean in gorgeous pastels: soft periwinkle blue, pale aqua, and rose gold. There was a silvery mist along the beach that added to the muted marriage of all those colors.
We stopped at of those one-hour parking spots by the side of the road. The Crankee Yankee knows that any chance I get to walk around on the rocks by the ocean, I will. These days I am more careful about where I walk, and avoid the slippery seaweed-covered rocks. But it never takes away the young wonder I always feel when I am near the ocean.
I have collected sea glass for years now, but these days, sadly, there isn’t much of it around. Since plastic has pretty much replaced glass, all those gemmy bits of glass have become thin on the ground.
However, it was heavenly to walk around on the rocks and enjoy the salty air in my face. The Atlantic ocean is cold and forbidding, but it will still occasionally toss a treasure or two up on the beach. Most of the shells that land there are broken, but now and then you may find a whole slipper shell, whelk or even a sand dollar.
Before I walked back to the car, I watched a young father and his little girl as they walked on the beach, heads down to see what the ocean might have left there. The little ran ahead of her father, bent down and picked something up. She ran back to her dad, yelling, “Daddy! Look! It’s a shell, a whole angel wing!”
I thought, “good for you, kiddo—keep finding treasure where you can.”