Day 438

Like the sand under my feet is always slipping no matter how still I stand, so is time.
The sand goes from cool to cold to warm to hot to soft to firm to hard to dry to wet like the seasons.
Water, air, birds, fish, sun, sound, landscape move constantly like life.

Children chomping on cubes of water-melon, dogs digging cool ditches, sand-pipers walking ultra-fast foraging for insects at the sea-shore, cows wandering aimlessly or standing like statues on the beach, sunbathing tourists ignoring the ultravioletness, people reading, jogging, walking, meditating, doing yoga and tai-chi, swimmers playing with the waves and bobbers being massaged by the water, families eating prawns and talking, kids building and breaking sand castles roaming naked in the sand, lovers canoodling and drawing hearts with arrows in the sand, umbrellas being uprooted by the breeze, an errant cow licking the side of a sleeping visitors face, many sitting gazing at the sun sparkling off the surface of the ocean … time has no meaning.

It is always now.
Moments are timeless.
Immeasurable.
Each one holding the universe within it.
Each one endless.

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