Awash in Brooklyn

9:30 am on a bitterly cold Sunday morning found me elbow deep in muck, like a real respectable adventurer. The quarry was a century's worth of washed ashore treasure along Dead Horse Bay in Floyd Bennett Field.

A small group, organized by a fearless leader, plundered and pillaged the old bottles, shoe soles and general detritus of elder generations until frost bitten fingers seemed inevitable.

One may wonder why this is the only beach in the city that specializes in antiques instead of the usual Coney Island fare of cigarette butt's and loose Cheetos? Just ask the resident expert.

A real life terrarium. Complete with baby crab specimen.

Scrubbed and bleached, back at home. I've always been a sucker for milk glass and old ceramics.


I can hardly believe these tea cups managed to not break after being thrown away and then rolling around the bottom of the bay for 70 years. Guess they don't make em like they used to.

These have the most beautiful aged cracks. My deco vase looks like an old sea shell, fitting for something that literally washed ashore in a cloud of sea foam.

And I can't forget the namesake bottle.

I'll be heavily haunting this place for many a low tide come warm weather. It seems as though my little storage problem is going to be getting much bigger.