Jack and I went to a place called Belle Anse today, but we usually call the place Glass Beach because there’s always a lot of seaglass to be found among the stones. The secret to all the seaglass here is that a friend of mine feeds the beach. Every autumn she takes buckets of broken up bottles and coloured glass and tosses them into the surf. It only takes a few days for the sharp edges to round off and by spring all that broken up trash has become treasure. My friend is a stained glass artist and she uses the seaglass to make all sorts of beautiful things. Jack doesn’t care about any of that, though. He just thinks it’s another fine place to frolic in the surf.