Great Outdoors
Glass Beach
Earth Reuniting with Nature
We are already two and a half hours into our drive. The sound of the rental car overpowers the sound of the momentous trees that lumber before us. The trees stare at us, observant and irritated with our intrusion on their territory. Driving through Jackson State Forest feels abnormal; who put this road through the trees? This road is the product of man, yet nature still thrives around it for us to marvel at.
Small traces of light barely slip through the cracks in the forest, leaving Nikki and myself isolated in darkness at 11:30am. As the cavernous trees open up, we are met by extensive plots of farmland inhabited by grazing cattle. We finally make it to Fort Bragg. The antiquated town has a whole host of activities to partake in, all of which allow one to emerge from the trees into unmistakably different scenery—scenery which displays the abundance of human life and its constructs.
We follow the pass of shrubbery to a path to the water’s edge. From the precipice of the rocks, a child searches through the gleaming shore. His mother watches as he sifts through the tufts of sand, retrieving the perfect gem of glass. He, without a doubt, wants as much glass as he can find in the moist earth. His cup from a local gas station is filled halfway with color, soon to be overflowing.
Prior to gaining its status as an attraction, the area now known as “Glass Beach” was owned by the Union Lumber Company. In 1906, The Great Quake devastated the San Francisco Area, leaving a majority of Fort Bragg’s downtown district in ruins. Due to the sheer amount of debris produced by the earthquake and the lack of a dump site, the city’s inhabitants disposed of their garbage in the Union Lumber Company’s unused land. Locals began to rummage through their unwanted belongings to fill this lot, sending their trash off the cliffs and into the ocean in hopes that the waves would claim it away.
The citizens of Fort Bragg believed that they could throw anything into the abandoned beach, and the waves would take the burden. When this proved false, the piles of garbage were set ablaze to create sufficient space for more waste. This cycle of dumping and burning occurred time and time again until the North Coast Water Quality Board took initiative. In 1967, the organization collaborated with other major city leaders to coordinate the closure of the area in anticipation of further damage to the habitat. The lot was closed off, preventing dumping or visitation.
The decades that passed allowed for the garbage to undergo a transformation. Nature took control, choosing to refashion the trash that was forced into its massive body. Countless varieties of hued glass from amber to turquoise were formed. The contaminants danced in the ocean together, rubbing against the rocks and sand, resulting in rare, cross-colored “fire glass.”
The fate of the beach changed in 2002, when it was noticed by the California State Park system and adopted into the MacKerricher State Parks. The spectacle of the sea glass is now widely known, and many tourists come to catch a sight of the lustrous sanded coves of the beach.
Golden sand falls between longing fingers, the wind caressing the sand back down to the mounds below, as visitors try to find their desired glass. Farther along, near the foaming mouth of the waves, kelp snakes along the sand, stranded from their watery home, but decorates the speckled sand.
Nikki and I wandered deeper into the decline, hopping from rock to rock and sliding down sand. The ground shifts from an alluring bronze to a silk bark color as we approach the union of water and land. Refraction of light from the waters clothes the rocks with shards of light. We stared out at the crystalline tide—unusually clear water exposed the life underneath.The crustaceans and small fish that call these waters home did not seem bothered by the intruding glass.
Upon closer inspection, fragments of glass also rest where the water meets the sand. Eroded by the unrelenting tides, the former shards have become smooth to the touch, elegant to the eyes. Mottled color adorns the neutral shore, providing the essence of amity between the vibrant pieces of glass and the blank canvas of sand. The glass comes in a variety of colors and sources, from cobalt to amber, car taillights to apothecary bottles. The sand thrives on its own accord, blending with the artificial contaminants that were forced upon it. Society always seems to be opposed to industrial integration with nature, but what if both forces mingled beautifully?
The misconception that the sea glass of Glass Beach is dwindling is perpetuated by its visitors. Most, like ourselves, only go where the crowd goes. The rest of the glass, hidden on another path, is left undiscovered by people who follow the herd. It wasn’t until our trip to the museum that we were informed of the other location on Glass Beach. There, the owner of the museum comments, “You went right, didn’t you? Don’t give the beach a bad write-up because you didn’t experience it fully. Right is wrong, and left is right.” We navigate our way past the congested section to the expanse where the sand is smoothed and unattended. We walk through a steep decline of red rocks, searching for what the man told us of. At the base of the slope is red earth, but it is not just earth.
Words: Daniel Orona
Photos: Monique Cosiquien