Beach-Combing in January

There's a 12-year old American girl here who reminds me more than a bit of Katie at that age: blonde, bespectacled, and bookishly quiet. She heard there is a beach across the Miura Peninsula from us where glass shards and pottery sherds (thanks, Kate) wash up on the tide.

I'd been to this beach a couple of years back so I agreed to try to find it for her and her mom. This is how I came to spend the better part of Saturday driving up and down narrow little lanes, backing slowly out of dead-end beach access roads, and being excruciatingly careful to keep my wheels aligned on rusty metal planks strewn precariously across muddy culverts. "Allow me to demonstrate a Y-turn, my dear."

The tide was in by the time we finally found the sheltered cove in question but there were still a few yards of beach to comb so we did not come home empty-handed (see left). The correct route is now etched in my memory so I hope someone else will want to collect shards and sherds soon. In the meantime, I think I'll try my hand at creating a mosaic something-or-other.