Ferns to either side, we walk down a path to target rock. The path turns fromclay to sand almost at once, and we facea sea we hadn’t even heard before. Even now its sound is hardly louder than ourbreath. The osprey above us, to ourright, and sandpipers below, to our left,we descend past beach roses heavy withhips to the last tide’s line of detritus.This is already the other world, but thefirst thing you touch, no larger than yourthumbprint, reveals
the time before.