The Water Remembers

We walk along the edges of things, trusting the solid ground beneath our boots. We believe the world is fixed, a collection of stone and iron that stays where we place it. But there is another world beneath the surface, one that moves without effort. It is a mirror that refuses to be still. When the wind stirs, the city breaks apart. The tall houses, the heavy history, the weight of the centuries—all of it dissolves into shifting lines of light. We think we are looking at the city, but we are only looking at the water’s interpretation of it. Nothing is permanent. Everything is in the process of becoming something else, a ripple that vanishes before it can be named. We are so afraid of losing our footing, yet the water holds the truth of our instability. If you stare long enough, does the reflection become more real than the stone?

Shirren Lim has captured this quiet instability in her photograph titled Amsterdam. It is a reminder that even the oldest cities are only ever passing through. What do you see when the surface begins to break?