The Ocean

“Faint February twilight falls over the ocean. Not long ago there was snow, but it melted, and the warm air is heavy and humid; inland, in the depths of the continent, a sea southwesterly wind pushes it along in silent jolts, and then brings its own in return—an aromatic, sharp combination of sea salt, boundless distance, an expanse of freedom and mystery, unbroken by anything. In that direction where the sun should be setting, the silent destruction of an unknown city, an unknown country, takes place: in fire and smoke, buildings collapse; splendid palaces with towers crumble; whole mountains split apart silently and slowly bow down, collapse for a long time. Yet no scream, no moan, no thunder of falling reaches the land—this monstrous game of shadows is played in silence; and the great ocean’s vast space, quietly accepting it, reflecting faintly what is readying itself for something—something it is waiting for….”