I close my eyes for a moment and listen. The ocean beats against the shore outside like an unending exaltation of someone greater than us. If I was certain were I stood on God, I'd think of that sound as His heartbeat. But God and I are on shaky ground, and though we're closer now than we were years before, we rarely speak.
Something is out there, though. Something undeniable and endless rides those waves into the sand, again and again, in rhythm with the world's metronome. There is a vastness to the ocean in this place, a purity of sound and color and sweetness too unbearably wonderful to be an accident. I'm not sure it cares about us, whatever it is, perhaps it keeps the world turning while we make out own choices, and perhaps that's the best we can ask for.