The Edge of Silence

We are drawn to the margins. The place where the solid earth gives way to the uncertainty of water. It is a thin line, shifting with the tide, indifferent to who stands upon it. To exist here is to be constantly alert, a small pulse of life against the vast, grey indifference of the horizon. We watch, we wait, we take what is offered by the mud and the salt. There is no grand design in the search for sustenance, only the rhythm of the day and the necessity of the next step. We think we are observers, standing apart, but we are just as tethered to the shoreline as anything else. We are all waiting for the tide to turn, for the light to shift, for the hunger to be quieted, if only for a moment. What remains when the water finally claims the ground where you stood?

Tareq Uddin Ahmed has captured this stillness in his image titled Common Sandpiper. It reminds me that even in the smallest movements, there is a heavy, quiet dignity. Does the bird know it is being watched?