The mystery of the sea is very much alive, for me, in the Outer Banks.  One of the neatest ways to touch this mystery is to find a bright colored piece of sea glass in a pile of shell hash along the beach.  Like a valuable jewel, the colors–electric green, cobalt blue, frosted clear, tumbled amber–call to all those who pay close enough attention.  Rare enough to require dedication, yet abundant enough to stave off complete discouragement, sea glass is a pleasant surprise, a true gift from the sea.

Sea glass is broken shards from bottles and other sources that have been physically and chemically weathered by the ocean.  The sharp edges of the glass are worn smooth and the shape of the pieces often resemble the letter “C.”  The glass itself becomes frosted in appearance, rough and chalky to the touch.

A poet is better suited to elaborate on the romantic concept of trash in, treasure out.  Anywhere else, broken glass is a negative indicator; a sign of a place that’s been neglected.  I suppose it should be no different on the beach.  Give the ocean a half century to wash, transform, and discriminately distribute that broken glass, however, and attentive beachcombers can’t help but regard sea glass with a degree of respect, admiration, and wonder.

It’s said that beach glass is diminishing in quantity as containers transition primarily to plastics.  Sea plastic just doesn’t have the same affect on me.

Camera:  Nikon D810
Lens:  Nikkor 60mm micro f2.8 @ 60mm
Tripod:  Really Right Stuff TVC-33

Date taken:  January 29, 2019
Settings:  f16, 1/10 second, iso-31