I was so angry I had to leave the house and go walk it off. I went to Church Beach, a few minutes away. Down the long staircase, through the brambles and winter branches, to the water’s edge where the storm clouds matched the scowl on my face.
I wanted nothing more than just the physical activity of walking the adrenaline out of my body, and allowing the waves and wind soothe me. Then I saw a glimmer on the rocky beach . . . then another, and another. Beach glass! Tons of it! Within minutes I had a huge handful, green and white and brown and blue. Usually I find no more than 2 or 3 pieces, even in an hour. My sister Cedarwind taught me long ago that part of her devotion to the Ocean Mother is staying on the beach until she finds at least one piece of beach glass, and it’s a practice I’ve adopted as my own.
So, this embarrassment of riches on a day when I am totally raging.
The logical part of my brain said “of course there’s more beach glass now, it’s tossed up by the winter storms.” But the mythic part of my brain said “Ah . . . the Goddess wants you to know She’s listening.”