Walking along the beach looking for sea glass

The sea is for thrill seekers

I've spent many cold mornings walking along abandoned beaches, searching for the remains of sand dollars and sea urchins, sea glass and skimming stones.

Over the years I've noticed the appearance of sand dollars and sea urchins becoming more infrequent. As a child I'd collect dozens of bleached sand dollars in an hour's walk. But as the years went by, there were fewer and fewer. Sometimes it would be days before I found the whitened husk of a sand dollar or urchin. Other years, I'd walk and every twenty metres I'd find one. I wonder if there are fewer remaining colonies, or is it the tides and waves that have become tougher adversaries?

So today I collect sea glass, pebbles and shells to nurture the child-like delight I feel each time I spot a frosty green mermaid's tear resting amidst pebbles. I find the cool smoothness of skimming stones satisfying, so easily slipped into pockets to be caressed throughout the day -- worry stones to carry around. And collected shells, well they become trumpets of the sea-- cupped over ears to revive me when weather or work conditions keep me far from gull-filled shores.

When I was little, I was quite mischievous(or so I thought!). I'd carry my discovered artefacts from one beach to another place - some undulating meadow or pine grove -- and deposit them there, hoping my actions would confuse future archaeologists who found piles of shells in forests miles and miles from any nearby ocean.

There were other times when I became a true eco-warrior. I remember one lavender morning, as my feet touched down on dry sand, I looked towards the water's edge and to my horror saw hundreds of stranded starfish - barely covered with sand and water. I spent the whole morning moving the starfish into waist deep water, hoping they'd be sheltered from the retreating tide and oscillating waves.

Life is so much like the sea - the vastness, the unpredictability, the beauty. We are all children (or starfish) in its midst. Each day brings some new adventure, dilemma or drama.

The bigness of the sea (or life) reminds us we are small; and in our smallness we throw ourselves at it, thrilled by chance and risk - of becoming drowned, of washing up somewhere exotic, of drifting aimlessly, of navigating with purpose, of doing it all at once.

I think we must all be thrill seekers- whether we choose to admire life in paintings or to be in amongst the waves, to collect its treasures or just simply watch it from a distance-- we are captivated.

That is why boys try to conquer it by throwing stones. And girls, well of course there is a duality in how we perceive it - one minute we are frightened by its power, and the next we are enthralled by its danger.

In the end, we become those small stones and bits of glass scattered on the beach, weathered by the water and wind that just keep coming, day after day, minute after minute. We are shaped by the ocean's path, the current, the storms and especially the surges.

It is a mystery where we will end up, what we will look like after the erosion. Hopefully somewhere beautiful, even if when we get there we're a bit smaller and worn down, less proud but more humble.