Treasure hunter

I'm on a search for glass.

Sea glass that is & the only place to find it is in my backyard.

The beach has always been my safe haven, my place of peace & restoration.

Sun, salt, sand, searching for shells and sea glass. 

The summer days are winding down and so are my days here on American soil/sand. I will be trading in my CT & RI beaches for the Côte d'Azur & Almafi coast...not that that's a bad thing...but, nothing quite trumps home.

I treasure my beach days and my time spent with my family here because I know those days will pass. Just like when I was a little tot running down the path behind my brother with our buckets full of fresh caught crabs.

Or when I'd sit at the surf and let the waves come and wash over my little legs and then drag out the sand from underneath me—sinking myself deeper into the wet sand.

Building sand castles, ordering from the ice cream truck, swimming out to the buoys. 

Those days are gone—they have been replaced with reading books, lounging in beach chairs and other older things. 

I guess it's part of growing up— when I watch the kids play the way I used to play, in the sand I used to sit on, picking up the shells I used to pick up. 

I can't help but watch them & close my eyes to rewind 15 years or so to pretend I'm still that young, playing in the sand, shovel in hand, as if the years had never passed.