Sea Glass. Beach Glass. Mermaids' Tears.

This is My Story

My love of sea glass started as a child in the late 50's. Growing up on the East Coast of the United States, summers at the beach were a normal way of life. It was rare to enter a beach house and not find a bowl or jar filled with sea glass, usually surrounded by the seas' other treasures such as shells and driftwood. I was young and never questioned where the glass came from. I only knew that the colors and textures fascinates me.

Gunrock Beach, located on the south section of Hull, has always been a small but cohesive neighborhood. Many summer families have returned here for generations, including mine for over 50 years. In fact, much of our family now calls Gunrock and surrounding Hull our home.

No matter what season of the year it is, Gunrock Beach always captures the imagination, bu there is little left to imagine in regard to the history of the spot. As picturesque as it is, one can sit on the beach look up to the hills and time-travel back to the late 1800s, when Victorian hotel-goers sat on verandas of the Pacific House (just like we do from my parent's porch swing) gazing down upon the beautiful curved beach.

From the north end of Hull we have the views of the Boston skyline and the Harbour islands. All along the coast we can watch the constant parade of boats, large and smalll, as they pass in and out of protected harbours. From sunset point we have the enchanting views of "World's End", which at one time was under consideration to be the home of the United Nations before becoming the sanctuary it is today. Anita Shreve said it right, "The only problem with looking for sea glass...is that you never look up. You never see the view. You never see the houses or the ocean, because you're afraid you'll miss something in the sand."

There's something about sea glass that captures the imagination of anyone who loves the romance and mystery of the sea. But I take my passion for ocean-tossed bits of glass and pottery a step further. For me it's about memories, family, and the serenity that tocuhes me like no other; punctuated by the rhythm of the tides. I try to capture this in my images, and hope that you and that you can feel a little peace of Gunrock in your life. All I ask is you share it with friends and loved ones, just like I do every summer.

God, I love it here. I stride quickly to where the sand is still wet from the previous tide and then, and then I am gone. There is no thinking, just being. I have no awareness of time or of myself. If I am searching for glass, it is rote, with no more or less consciousness than a jellyfish searching for sustenance. It is not mindlessness or oblivion, as I am wholly aware, but in a way that preempts any reality outside of the moment. There I am seaweed, I am water, I am stone, I am fish. I am a grain of sand, warm in the sun. I am reduced to nothing, but part of everything. I am home, I am free, I am one with the sea, I am the primordial me, and the glass is just my excuse to be there. - Sherry Fields from the Sea Glass Hunter's Handbook