Beneath the endless sky, a whisper... the grains of sand hold more time than memory itself.
Do echoes of the past blend with the rhythm of the sea? each wave's caress a gentle erasure of footprints left behind.
I stand still, though time dances around, under the sun's interrogation. the ocean breathes tales of things forgotten and of things to come.
Are we passengers on the sands, waiting for tides to take us away or carry us home?