Article: The Zen of Beach Combing

I am a writer, by profession... and although most of my writing appears in publications in the spiritual, metaphysics and self-help fields, from time to time I also write about some of my passions in life such as beach combing and sea glass collecting.

Recently, I wrote an article on an independent web site-- basically exploring my life-long attraction to the ocean, being at the sea side and beach combing. It was basically a pictorial personal essay entitled "The Zen of Beach Combing-- A Lifelong Passion." 

Somewhat to my surprise, the article won several awards from the (general interest) site where it's published-- including being featured on the front page for several days, where it got seen and read by thousands of people. I suppose it says something that the article was ranked among the 500 most read on a site hosting almost five million articles...

I invite you to go have a look-- I imagine quite a few beach combing fans will be able to relate to my experience. If nothing else, there are some pretty "beachy" photos to look at!

In the future, I plan to write additional articles about beach combing and sea glass. 

The Ebbs and Flows of Life on the Beach

For the past few months, I have spent much less time on the beach than I could wish for. And I have spent much less time "playing with my glass," than I could wish for. In more ways than one.

Beach combing has always been a catharsis-- the beach and the sea have healing properties for me. Maybe that's not true for everyone... however, I start feeling a bit "disconnected" from the world, if I am away from the beach for too long.

Sarah (my honey) recently commented "You really should get a web site going, for your sea glass." We've talked about it, for a long time... a place to write about sea glass and its origins, and showcase some of my sea glass photography. I already have the site "reserved;" I already have this blog. But getting it done has become yet another thing I "wish I had the time for." Although I don't really do "New Year's Resolutions," definitely something I would like to get to, in 2010.

It seems that not only do the tides of the beach ebb and flow, often LIFE itself ebbs and flows. The "stuff of life" has been keeping me somewhat away from my photography and beach combing.

The aftermath of my mom dying (she lived overseas) in August has been time consuming. Making a living in a depressed economy has been time consuming. Dealing with some personal stuff in my life has been time consuming. Creating the "platform" for a better future has been time consuming.

Aside from "tides of life," the beach itself has been "ebbing and flowing," too. Mostly, it has been ebbing.

An article in the Seattle Times (which reaches close to a million people) back in May offered a lot of exposure to sea glass, but unfortunately gave all but "perfect directions" to a piece of beach previously only known to a limited number of hardy enthusiasts. Of course the beach is public property, and I recognize that-- but "over use" of ANY resource is never a good thing; regardless of whether we're talking about fishing, mining, or collecting sea glass.

On one day during this past summer, I counted ONE HUNDRED people on a stretch of beach where I used to perhaps see a single person, every few hours. Many were not "beach combing." They were there with buckets and rakes and shovels and coolers and "manpower," like they were trying to run a "strip mining" operation on the beach.

I take a small amount of solace in knowing that I was not the person who told the journalist where I usually beach comb. His wife beach combs there, too. I wonder if she's as disappointed as I am...

This all brings me to ponder the ebbs and flows of life, again-- and how "a secret" stops being "a secret" when EVERYone knows about it. That amazing hamburger joint around the corner gets featured in the Sunday paper, as a result of which their "amazing" hamburgers become "mediocre" because they have to assembly line mass produce them.

The landscape of the beach changes, too. I mostly beach comb at the base of tall escarpments made up of sediment from the last ice age. These (sometimes 300 feet high) slopes are largely made up of compressed sand and clay, and the erosion and slope collapses have been extensive during the past 12 months-- which means a layer of fresh 10,000-year old sand is laid on top of the material/rocks that contained much more recent material... including sea glass. People often think it is heavy storms that bring down the slopes-- more often it is heavy rains followed by a hard freeze. The water gets into the ground, near the top, expands when it subsequently freezes, and cracks start to form. Eventually, a chunk of compressed sand the size of an apartment building gives way and lands on the beach, changing the topography of everything as the sea and tides eat away at it.

As some wise person once observed: "The only constant in life is change."

Overexposure: When publicity is not a good thing

Sea glass is enjoying a wave of popularity, these days. A couple of decades ago, sea glass collectors were just "random scattered hobbyists" around the globe-- in recent we have become "organized." We have web sites, online communities for collectors and artists, we have an "Association," we even have "conventions." Frankly? I think it's wonderful! It doesn't get much better than when we can share and enjoy something with like-kind spirits.

However, with "organization" and "popularity" also come the troubles of "exposure," along with the dangers of OVER-exposure. It's difficult to pass a "value judgment" on this... but I liken it a bit to the process of a "small town" growing into a "city." Regardless of whether you think of it as GOOD or BAD, the fact remains that without some form of "careful management," you suddenly have traffic jams, urban sprawl; strip malls and the local hardware store is replaced with a Wal-Mart supercenter.

An article ran in the Seattle Times back in early May, and it provided a lot of exposure to sea glass. On the surface, a good thing, but unfortunately the article also gave pretty much "perfect directions" to a remote stretch of beach previously only known to a limited number of hardy enthusiasts.... willing to trudge 3-4 miles across gravel and rocks to get there. How things have changed. On Memorial Day, I counted ONE HUNDRED people on a stretch of beach where I used to see a single person, every few hours. That is, 100 people before I simply gave up and went home. Over July 4th weekend, a similar scenario... I didn't even get on the beach, after seeing how many cars were in the parking lot (and up the adjacent street).

The sad thing is that many of these folks were not "beach combing." They were "exhibit A" of the ugly trait of "human greed." They were there with buckets and rakes and shovels and coolers and "manpower," like they were trying to run a "strip mining" operation on the beach. They'd hike in with a cooler of soda and beer, and then hike out, using the cooler as a storage container.

I take a small amount of comfort in knowing that I was not the one who told the journalist where I usually beach comb. I take less comfort in carrying out a trash bag full of empty beer bottles and cans that littered the beach, a few days later.

Things come and go, in life-- and "a secret" stops being "a secret" when EVERYone knows about it. A friend (online) and fellow beach comber (and jewelry artist) stays pretty philosophical about it... pointing to the impermanence of things. She depends on sea glass to make her jewelry, with which the makes her living... and I admire her ability to stay neutral in the face of possibly using the primary raw material for her livelihood.

I've been around "collectible" hobbies most of my life, and I have seen the aftereffects of overexposure. The problem isn't about whether "people make money," it's about the level of overall enjoyment people derive from the hobby. Thousands flocked to stamp collecting when someone pointed out that stamps were "a good investments." But when it turned out the "big deal" was no longer there when everybody was involved, the newcomers left in disgust. However, during the "chaos years" many old-timers also left in disgust, when their once peaceful hobby had suddenly become chaotic and very expensive. The net result was that overexposure shrank the hobby, in the longer term..

And THAT is what worries me, when I look at sea glass collecting and its growing popularity.