I took a trip out to one of the Boston Harbor Islands one day last summer. It was a bit overcast, and few were there that day. Walking down along the beach, there was no one around, and there were no boats in the water in view. I heard a tinkling sound, like glass chimes. It continued, and I could see no building with chimes or boat or person that could be making the sound.....That day, I was also feeling a strong connection to my dad, who was born in East Boston back in 1905. I imagined him as a boy down at the East Boston waterfront throwing bottles into the water..... Then all of a sudden I realized where the sounds were coming from. It was all the many broken pieces of "seaglass" chiming against each other in the lapping waves hitting the shore. I wondered, then, if the bottles my dad threw into the water about 100 years ago were now chiming to me as their broken pieces washed up on the shore.