Sunday, February 16, 2014


Perhaps a shadow is all you will ever see of the living while lying on your stomach searching through the silt of what may have long ago been snow. Look a little above the shadows, in the direction of the sun. That is where you will find what you are seeking: decaying driftwood, salt, dirt, sand, shells, bits of plants and lost claws. All this death must return to life in time for spring.

Maybe, as the moon is sometimes overwhelmed by the shadow of earth as it races through its phases, we could do worse than search under stones in pursuit of what is bright and alive. For all, at last, return to the sea. Whether grotesquely bent or perfect, clinging to the spines of sea stars or spread like spiderwebs across the backs of dead fish the last bits of life slosh in the tide –  dark specks of sand that lift and whir away.

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