The sea.
Its motion is not bound by time, nor distracted by detail. It sees in centuries, in millennia, in eons – never in days, months, or hours.

Each wave unfolding upon the shore is both an arrival and a departure – a reminder that nothing endures: not joy, not sorrow, not us. What comes will go, and what goes will return, reshaped, leaving only a fleeting echo in time.

The sea teaches that memory itself is fluid – what once seemed immovable is carried away drop by drop, until the surface is smooth again, waiting for another cursory story to unfold.

Perhaps this is the wisdom of the sea: that permanence is an illusion,
and that every ending is also a beginning in disguise.

The sea sees – and in its perpetual motion, we glimpse eternity.