The Edge of the Tide

We arrive at the water’s edge carrying the weight of the day. It is a habit, this seeking of horizons, as if the line where the sky meets the sea could offer an answer to the things we cannot name. The light fades, turning the world into a series of silhouettes. We sit in the cooling sand, watching the fire drain from the clouds. There is a specific loneliness in watching a day end in a place that is not home. It is a quiet, heavy thing. We wait for the stars, or perhaps we wait for the tide to wash away the footprints we left behind. The heat of the sun lingers in the wood and the stone, a ghost of the warmth we are about to lose. Does the sea remember the people who stand before it, or does it simply wait for the next tide to erase the silence?

Ryszard Wierzbicki has captured this stillness in his image titled Freeway Bar Sunset. It is a place where the day finds its rest. Does it offer you a place to rest as well?