Our Frantic Search
“How many beautiful shells have we cast aside in our frantic search for the one that first we saw?”
What are the Waves? Destructive? Malicious? Bent only on destruction and expanding their dominion?
What are the Waves? A gentle molder of the shore? A grand and constant encourager of change?
We recall the shoreline of years bygone only to find this year’s beach different in shape. Yet though its shape may change, its beauty remains; the colors, its demeanor. The constant meets the created and every day, through churning, makes a new, somehow-still-awe-inspiring beach.
Each lap on the sand reveals a new shell to be found. Some of the most precious shells are for holding onto; to be collected and cherished. Others are swept away as soon as they’re spotted.
What do we do with our lost shells? Do we kneel, grovel, prostrate on the sand; digging through the slurry to find the one we first loved, begging its splendor and glory to return to us? How many beautiful shells have we cast aside in our frantic search for the one that first we saw?
What do we do with our lost shells? Look up and see the miles-long mounds of shells that the Waves—in all their infinite wisdom—just washed ashore. Nick Topits