Little Things in Dubrovnik
“I suspect many of us walk past true gems every day without considering where they came from and what journeys they have endured.”
Richard LaMotte, Pure Sea Glass: Discovering Nature’s Vanishing Gems
After our morning swim in the Adriatic Sea, Leah set about collecting sea glass. She gathered quite a few pieces in her hand and then left them in a little pile on the beach. The fun for her was in the finding.
I imagined some child coming to the beach after we left and being delighted by the little collection of green, white, and amber bits. The pieces had lost the smooth shimmer of new glass, but they had a better beauty given to them by the Adriatic Sea.
For me the lesson was in leaving it behind. I am a saver from a long line of savers. We save everything. In fact, I took a few pebbles from the beach home that day. They were so pretty and I wanted to remember that morning.
They’re still in my bag, though.
And the snapshot of the sea glass is enough to help me remember.
I need to learn to let go — of stuff.
On the sea glass morning, when we got back to our apartment, a small turtle poked his head out in the garden.
One of the biggest lessons from my European travels is that Americans need to slow down. We’re always in a hurry, always watching the clock. So much of the world takes life at a more leisurely pace — and it’s wonderful.
It’s good for the body.
It’s good for the soul.
Take a walk with a turtle and behold the world in pause.
My friend, Renee, tagged me in a photography challenge that involves posting nature photos (taken by me) for seven days. She did it on Facebook, but I’m going to do mine here, starting with far away places and moving closer to home every day.
Today, Day #1, is from Dubrovnik, where I was 4500 miles from home!
I’m going to tag some of my favorite bloggers to take up the challenge too. If you’re tagged and don’t want to do it, that 110% fine with me. I totally understand.
Anna Brown — I’m tagging you first for three reasons.
One — because when I first discovered you, you were in MONGOLIA. Talk about the farthest reaches of the world. Plus, I think you’re still pretty far away — somewhere in the wilds of Canada.
Two — you’re somewhere in the wilds of Canada (did I already say that?) and I think Canada is absolutely beautiful.
Three — I love when you write, and you haven’t written much lately, my friend. (nudge, nudge)