A Gift from the Sea

The great mother, the sea, has borne many a strange brood.  The smallest that suckle at her breast are the plankton‑-the weakly swimming or floating plant and animal life that nourish the sea's larger children.  Some of these plankton have the quality of bioluminescence: they glow with the same biological mystery the firefly knows.  It's these plankton that create the "seafire"‑-the phosphorescent waves that break so eerily on the horizon, or so magically caress a night swimmer's body.

In her season the sea will send the plankton to the shore, where they mix invisibly with the sand at the tide's edge.  A quick stirring of such sand will send radiant sparkles of life dancing upward in a brief blaze of glory.  On such a sand may a man walk and define his life.

Some will say they move through mud.  They're speaking the truth, for where sand and water merge, the mixture is called mud, and so shall always be called.  Others, perhaps more observant, or more privy to the sea, will claim they are scuffing up plankton.  They're correct also, and science bears witness to their accuracy.  But there are a few pilgrims who, when asked what they're doing, have a third and equally truthful answer: they're walking through stars.

Should these three strollers bend to clasp in their hands a few of the grains through which they stride, each will hold a gift from the sea.  Yet only one will call himself rich....

Blaise Pascal put it simply: "Imagination disposes of everything; it creates beauty, justice, and happiness, which are everything in this world."  I fancy that.