The Edge of the Land

We spend our lives looking for the horizon, believing it to be a destination. We walk until the ground runs out, expecting a revelation, a sudden clarity that never arrives. The land simply stops. The water begins. There is no ceremony in this transition, only the indifferent meeting of elements that have existed long before us and will remain long after we have turned away. We bring our small hungers and our brief joys to the edge, hoping the vastness will acknowledge them. It does not. It remains silent, rhythmic, and entirely occupied with its own tides. We are left standing in the grass, watching the light change, realizing that the beauty of the world does not require our presence to exist. It is a cold comfort, perhaps. Or perhaps it is the only freedom we are ever granted. What remains when the view is finally empty?

Ronnie Glover has captured this quiet boundary in the image titled Happy View. It is a reminder of how small we are against the weight of the coast. Does the ocean feel the flowers, or is it only the wind that knows they are there?