Reflecting Back-Beach Glass

The New Year is but a week old and I'm already reflecting back on a summer past. Perhaps it's my morning stroll, a fog forbidding the sun to fully shine.

Ah but a peek reminds me of the sun's warmth on my back as I walked down the beach in front of me.

This beach is not as beautiful as some but to me it's a mystery, you see there are treasures here.

 Ancient conchs and shards left by the Indians who once lived here. 

The sun's heat would guide me to treasures to be found, as I walked with head bent looking down. A sparkle would catch my eye, my heart would jump, oh my. Bending at the waist my hand would extend, picking up the small treasure at my feet.

 Beach glass, no longer smooth,no longer clear, how many years had it been at sea just waiting for me?

My beach treasures don't stop there, you see, pottery shards from so long ago tell me yet another story of years gone by.

And yet another story.

Was there once a small girl who played upon this beach, she and her doll running along picking up seashells, singing a song?

 All summer I strolled along this beach picking up small pieces of history,
 imagining who used them and how life used to be. Once in a while I would find something whole.
 A bottle would appear along this sandy shore. I felt rewarded, as if all these pieces I'd found were saying "Here you go, take me home".

So there they sit, my little beach bottles, reminding me of my wonderful summer spent picking up treasures left by those who came
 before.