The boundary of two worlds. Land and Sea. There is a force here. I can feel it when I am still.

Incrementally, and without effort, water sculpts the edges of the land. Then men come to correct what water has done. 

Water is relentless–generations of men struggle to maintain what would otherwise maintain itself, in its own way, without struggle. Water is. I wonder: where is the line between maintenance and interference?

Midst the noise of the surf I sense a quiet pull–a primordial dream I don’t remember; but somehow I remember a feeling–very unlike the gratuitous noise and flashing lights of my digital world, that would lure me away. 

The cadence of my thinking has changed. Here, there is an uncommon sense of wholeness. Here, the same thing has been happening, the same way, for eons of analogue time, all by itself. 

There is no ‘undo’ button here. There is nothing to be undone. Nor will there be. For a brief moment, I feel a part of the flow of the eons.