If you had to describe the essence of the sand and it's subtle topography - would you consider the bars that emerge and recede at the will of the moon - or the strip at the sea wall buttressing the continent

would you consider the mooring and its attendant buoy that spears the flat and stretches out to explore the pocked bottom of low tide - breathing in the mollusks and scuttling crabs at the "growing edge"

I've wandered the flats and known my footprints are less than a blink - indenting a passage that is gone with the next tide but repeated millennium upon millennium hauling our questions to the shore and casting them out in hope of clarity

If I had to describe the essence of the sand I'd say it was both impermanent and eternal - a shifting record of the passing gulls - slowing down so that we might breath - always regenerating from the rivers - always jealous of the moss calmly eyeing the stone