Letter from the editor: How sea glass is a metaphor for life

by Stephanie Fellenstein Published:

Rock Beach on Kelleys Island is off the beaten path. In fact, I'm not even sure there is a path.

There are two ways to get there -- kayaking from the public beach at Kelleys Island State Park and around the rocky seawall or hiking through the woods along a path lined with poison ivy, until the only thing left in front of you is the lake. Then turn right.

A beach covered in rocks may not attract the usual beach-goer, but it is the hidden gems that lure this hiker. Sprinkled among the rocks, down at the water's edge, are tiny pieces of sea glass. Some no bigger than a grain of sand, the translucent glass winks in the sunlight.

A gentle wind blows across of the beach as we settle in for the treasure hunt.

Patience is a necessity. It's not easy to find sea glass. The light has to hit it just right. They sparkle like jewels in the water.

Don't be fooled by shiny, wet rocks pretending to be something they're not. Sometimes they look like sea glass and I reach in to grab them before a wave pulls them back out into the lake. The only thing left in my hands, though, are rocks.

Don't judge the glass by its size, shape or color. Each piece has a story to tell, a history. Something that makes it unique and important.

Life isn't always easy or beautiful or perfect. But it is what I choose to make of it.

I like to visit rock beach when I need a reminder.

Want to leave your comments?

Sign in or Register to comment.