Mudlarking

photo by Stephen Lewis, from the TMagazine

Whoa: T Magaizine, The Wading Game

Some people have recurring dreams about flying or breathing underwater or something else that makes them feel elated.  My recurring dreams involve treasure hunting: walking into a thrift store that sells everything I could ever want, for a dollar; stumbling upon a garage sale that is in an old mansion that hasn't been opened up in 100yrs, and everything is a dollar; more to the point, the dream where I am walking on a rocky beach looking for beach glass but realizing that instead of beach glass, the soft waves are washing up antique jewelry or artifacts.  These are delirious dreams from which I wake up disappointed.

But this article proves that variations of dreams can be true.  The next time I visit London, this is on my MUST DO list (followed by a long stroll through the V&A).

On a similar note, when I was in Philadelphia last summer, I went for a walk to a small overgrown arboretum.  There was a river/creek running at the back of the property, and on the other side was a rather large and run down apartment complex.  Not very idyllic.   I stepped off the path onto a rocky bed surrounded by grass and garbage.  There was an abandoned fire pit and some beer bottles.  But peering at the rocks and pebbles a little longer, I noticed large amounts of "beach" glass.  A seasoned gatherer, I began picking it up, more and more of it, and definitely got into a bit of a trance.   It was old glass, iridescent colors and thick bottle bottoms.  I'm not sure if there was once a dump nearby or if the push of the creek forced these pieces onto this one rocky bank.  After a good wash, they're now in a ziplock bag in my desk waiting until I can unpack their history a little better.  For now they're just beautiful pieces of garbage.