There is something in the way light
bends through old glass - the way it catches
on the worn edges of delicate rims, dances
through jewel-toned depths, and shimmers like
something half-remembered.
This week, I weaved through the second-hand
shops of Newport, letting my fingers trail along
wooden shelves and dusty displays, searching for
colour, for forgotten craftsmanship, for stories
folded into fragile forms.
The first shop greeted me with cool air and that
familiar scent - books, timber, a hint of brass polish.
At the back, half-hidden behind ceramic
figurines, I spotted them. Goblets with deep
emerald stems. I held one up to the window,
it almost glowed - a quiet testament to gatherings
long past, to conversations murmured over candlelight.
Further along, a cabinet of mismatched glassware
caught my eye. I took out the wine glasses
with amber stems. I could only find three,
but decided to buy them, anyway.
In that same cabinet, I found a set of ruby-
coloured glasses. Yes, those
came home with me, too.
Imagine all these placed with care at summer parties,
their colors bright against linen and wildflowers.
I wandered on to the next shop where I discovered
this beautiful example of Sowerby Pineapple
Carnival glass, with the most beautiful
iridescent peach and coral tones.
Each shop, each shelf, each quiet alcove revealed
another fragment of forgotten beauty.
This eye-catching bowl set...
It's easy to imagine the setting
for such beautiful pieces.
This paperweight with blue
flower swirled inside it.
As I cradled it in my hands, I could almost feel
soft shadows of time pressed into its surface,
where hands once held it just as I did.
There’s an intimacy to finding pieces like this,
a quiet understanding between seeker and object.
Some pieces I take home, others I leave behind,
but all of them remain with me - the way their
colours linger, the way light touches their
edges, the way they remind me that
even the smallest treasures hold
shadows of the past.
Everything in this post can be
found HERE in my Etsy Shop.
♥