Water in Place
Miniature salty water droplets fly about, swirling through the air, leaving their body behind. Long slender blades of Marram grass have dug themselves into the sand. Running along the sand the fibrous shoots yearn for a taste of the foam circulated by the ocean waves. Only the harsh expanse of sand stands in its way.
Clusters of stems are gathered several paces from where the white-hot sand is thickest. Few seem to dare break from their ranks to move onward to where any moisture is hard to reach. Waves tumultuously crash about just beyond the shoreline. “Come closer” it clamors. Vegetation bobs up and down from the surface of the waves. There is a frenzy of sight, smell, and touch. Yet the water remains somewhat calm when it rests on the sandy beach.
Waves are rolled out one after another throwing stones and broken shells on the undisturbed sand. These well-traveled pebbles will rest here until the water sees fit to reclaim them. The warm face of the sun stares down on the scene. Waves of heat and light pummel the white sand refracting like millions of diamonds. Under the radiance of day, the wealth of the empires exists as a footpath trampled underfoot.
Behind the pulsing gaze of the sun hangs an unstirring curtain of blue; Birds sail through its depths without breaking their elaborate formations. They call to each other over the smashing of waves below. This is the first land they have seen in some time. Fly free birds, over the whispering grass to whatever adventure awaits you.
