Still Here

There is something about a boat at low tide that asks for your full attention. The water has gone, and yet here it sits, patient, unhurried, as though the absence of the sea is simply part of the deal.

The tide was out, but the boat remained buoyant and level, as though it were cradled and cupped by hands of air. Sometimes you meet people in life like this, whose grace keeps their back straight, their heads upright and above water. Beacons to us all.

Still here. Not despite what the world has withdrawn, but somehow because of it … held in place by something that needs no explanation, just admiration.