Pieces of Sea Glass are Love Letters in the Sand
If you follow us on Instagram or have stayed with us at The Lair, you already know how much our family loves sea glass hunting and sharing our beautiful finds. Eliška and I especially enjoy collecting unique pieces—admiring what they’ve become, imagining what they once were, and wondering about the journey that brought them to our shoreline.
Lately, we’ve been diving deeper into the history of sea glass in Puerto Rico and discovered a new favorite: ultraviolet sea glass! We recently learned that UV glass is considered ultra rare, so of course, we had to grab a black light and inspect our collection. We were amazed to see so many pieces begin to glow!
The glow comes from trace amounts of uranium, once used in certain types of antique glassware—yes, the same uranium used in nuclear energy. But don’t worry—the amounts used in glassmaking are incredibly small and safe. (Can you tell I’m geeking out on the history of glass? I totally am.)
To take things to the next level, we’ve even started beachcombing at night—a magical experience that feels like treasure hunting under the stars.
Evey has been repurposing some of our favorite finds into one-of-a-kind jewelry through her brand, Tidal Trove. Each piece captures a little piece of the sea’s magic, making it the perfect keepsake. In addition to sea glass, we often come across worn ceramic shards—what we affectionately call “sea-ramics.” You’ll find both the SeaGlass and SeaRamics collections displayed at The Lair and soon available in our online shop.
And finally, while researching sea glass history, I came across this beautiful poem that really touched me. I just had to share it with you…
I want to age like sea glass
By Bernadette Noll
I want to age like sea glass. Smoothed by tides, not broken.
I want the currents of life to toss me around, shake me up and leave me feeling washed clean.
I want my hard edges to soften as the years pass—made not weak but supple.
I want to ride the waves, go with the flow, feel the impact of the surging tides rolling in and out.
When I am thrown against the shore and caught between the rocks and a hard place, I want to rest there until I can find the strength to do what is next.
Not stuck—just waiting, pondering, feeling what it feels like to pause.
And when I am ready, I will catch a wave and let it carry me along to the next place that I am supposed to be.
I want to be picked up on occasion by an unsuspected soul and carried along—just for the connection, just for the sake of appreciation and wonder.
And with each encounter, new possibilities of collaboration are presented, and new ideas are born.
I want to age like sea glass so that when people see the old woman I’ll become, they’ll embrace all that I am.
They’ll marvel at my exquisite nature, hold me gently in their hands and be awed by my well-earned patina.
Neither flashy nor dull, just a perfect luster.
And they’ll wonder, if just for a second, what it is exactly I am made of and how I got to this very here and now.
And we’ll both feel lucky to be in that perfectly right place at that profoundly right time.
I want to age like sea glass. I want to enjoy the journey and let my preciousness be, not in spite of the impacts of life, but because of them.
If you really stop to think about it, it’s not too hard to imagine how all this sea glass came to be. Over a hundred years ago, it was common practice to haul trash and dump it directly into the ocean. Along the shores of places like Lake Erie, for example, several factories disposed of the glass used to make insulators for lightbulbs—often using purple glass with unique shapes. (We love finding these pieces; some even mistake them for “pirate glass” because of their color and form.) Puerto Rico was no different in this practice. The island’s coastlines carry remnants of a time when discarded glass eventually tumbled its way into beauty—smoothed by salt, sand, and time.
"I want to age like sea glass so that when people see the old woman I’ll become, they’ll embrace all that I am"
Sea glass is more abundant in certain areas of Puerto Rico, which is why some beaches feel like treasure troves while others turn up little. In Aguadilla, for example, local folklore holds that people once dumped waste directly into the sea from the old sugar mill. After a strong storm, you can snorkel beneath the remnants of the mill and uncover all kinds of sea-worn gems. One of the most unique finds here is vintage milk glass in an array of colors. Based on my research, I believe much of it likely dates back to the aftermath of the devastating 1918 tsunami, which destroyed much of Aguadilla Pueblo. Fast forward to today, and the debris of that era—along with decades of discarded glass—has been shaped by the ocean into smooth, colorful treasures just waiting to be discovered.