Maine's Rocky Coast, Through Another Lens

A friend of ours who had stayed in our house had left us a broken blue vase, along with a note: "to make seaglass with." 

So we got on our bikes with the bag of glass, and parked them at the top of Prouts Neck. We climbed down, settled ourselves among the rocks, and threw the glass down against them and into the sea. 

I braced myself against the rock, sliding slowly down, careful not to slip. Below us, the waves threw frothy salt water onto stone. 

Making sea glass is a more violent affair than I thought it would be. As each shard of our shattered blue vase broke against the rocks below, I marveled at the simplicity of it. At how within fifty years, it would be sea glass. 

Maine's rocky coast inspires me, with its gritty rocks and salty waves. It is forever, and yet, each moment is shatteringly impermanent.