July 20: Beach Glass

I'm not a beach glass collector, although every now and then I will pick up an unusual piece when I'm at a beach. This morning I wandered down to Lobster Cove just to see how it looks this month, like stopping in at a dear friend's house. The marsh there is blooming with wild roses, vetch, morning glories, buttercups, and wild mustard. Scarlet pimpernel pokes up from amid beach stones. Little red desiccated bodies of crabs lie on dark sand between redolent piles of seaweed, smoothed stones, and shells. And the occasional piece of sea glass, although Fish Beach offers up much more by way of variety and quantity (given its proximity to the granite jetty where islanders traditionally break their glass). What caught my eye today was a largish sea-worn piece of white (once, clear) glass with a raised G in the center. It seemed significant, but I couldn't ascribe any meaning to it while I carried it around. I couldn't even think of anyone I know with G as an initial. So instead I thought of G words associated with my day: glass, gentle, golden, green growing, glare, good, grateful, grackle, golden-crowned kinglet, gift.

Beach glass with a G--
what is its significance?
That it has none? Good.