My Beach Finds

 

I was de-cluttering some of my drawers when I found a small Gerber jar of shells I collected from a beach trip I made a long time ago. I held a tiny piece in my hand, trying hard to remember when or where I found this cluster of dusty brown-colored whorls. Soon after I unearthed some dried sand dollars, taking note of their smooth, chalky surfaces and then remembering the live ones I picked up from an island tour in Palawan more than 2 years ago.

There are other treasures stored somewhere in the house: a medium-sized starfish, bought from a souvenir shop somewhere in Cebu in ‘04. It used to be deep blue, I remember now, because I tried to take a live one home to dry but it gave off such a horrific smell that took weeks to go away. I also have handfuls of sand, of varying shades and textures, stored in glass bottles, some of which are still unlabeled even though years after the trip I can still remember the names of places where I spent the holiday.

Memories of frolicking among the waves or the colorful sight of marine life spring up as I hold my shells, pebbles, and bits of corals or driftwood that had been added to my still growing collection.

Nasugbu…Ilocos Sur…Cebu…Camiguin…Bataan…Pagudpod…Bangui…Boracay…Palawan…and decades earlier, even Redondo Beach (CA), Ocean City (MD), Panama Beach (FL) and some beach in Sabah, Indonesia whose name I can no longer remember --- a city-born/urban-dweller like myself should be so fortunate to have these places to visit and unwind.

The exhilaration of looking out into the still horizon slicing the colorful sky and restless sea, and thinking of what lies ahead, is that single common thread that pulls these places together.

I took a smooth, round pebble from a still unsorted lot in a plastic bag,  and at this instance I recall the ones embedded with fossils that were inadvertently given away to a friend. I sighed, wondering if I can find some more of these fossil pieces if and when I decide to go back to Tagudin. In the same way, I think of numerous trips to other places I have yet to see.

Used and Forgotten

My penchant for taking interest in things that other people no longer want takes me to thrift stores, garage sales, and rummage sales. More than the thrill of finding a great bargain, it is the sheer joy of discovering those one-of-a-kind items that promise an interesting history if only they were known.

Surveying a room full of second-hand items, my eyes would search for the unusual but practical items, like trade books, wooden frames or decorative boxes.



I feel an equal dose of excitement when I chance upon items left behind, whether accidentally, or on purpose. I have found matchless earrings, bracelets, pendants, and a ring. They are hardly ever worn, but they are kept along with my regular accessories.

From a tired-looking bungalow whose owners left a ton of junk before my family moved in, my mother and I sorted through so many old items. From the pile, I’ve kept a deep hunter green jewelry box, a postcard of a Picasso repro, and a hard-bound book on a collection of paintings.

Finding a purpose for things that other people had thrown away seems to have become a natural reaction for me, like at the time I spent my scholarship year in Georgia in 1994 where I found, at the dorm basement, of all things, a small, 2 cubic-foot brown dorm fridge and an electric water-heating jug, which turned out to be working! I also brought back to my dorm room discarded hangers and microwaveable food containers.

Of course I generally prefer buying brand new things (though I avoid paying at full retail!), but the quest for second-hand items still brings me to scavenging in thrift shops for a stylish top, a bag, or curtains on occasion. I still appreciate close to half of the items handed down to my by mother, mother-in-law, or a friend who’s moving out. But there is always something alluring about an object with a past.

Some songwriter wrote “Searching is half the fun: life is much more manageable when thought of as a scavenger hunt as opposed to a surprise party.”