I was feeling like perhaps a bit of pre-Christmas anxiety management was in order yesterday, so I went to the beach. I love the beach in winter. Most people stick to the path, rather than go down near the water. There are a few, usually accompanied by a super-friendly dog, who walk the sand, but I can walk for half an hour without seeing anyone. I’m good with that. I’ll chat, but I go for the solitude.

I always find beach glass and other curiosities when I go, and yesterday was no different. I walked and collected for a few hours wearing fingerless gloves to protect against the wind. But for an overcast day, it was a good walk.

I take with me a plastic zip top type bag into which I collect my beach glass; the same one I’ve been using for most of this year. It came to me filled with a vegetable of some sort in my Mama Earth veggie basket, and I fold it up and keep it in the console of my car most of the time. As I was collecting, I didn’t notice that some of the not-fully-smooth glass or metal bits must have cut the bag at some point. A piece fell out when I was bent over to pick up another, and I figured it out.  I don’t know how many pieces I lost before I figured it out, but it didn’t matter. Glass is bonus to the time on the beach.

I held the bag differently for the rest of the walk, folded over to cover the cuts in the bag. But I continued to put more pieces into the collection. The worst part was that I gave myself a “There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza” ear worm. Thanks, brain.

This advent, may the joy come from the gathering, not the having.