Saturday, 1 March 2014. I sit in a natural pond, high up the beach. I take wet sand in my fist. And it dribbles down into growing, misshaped towers. I build the uppermost spire,. But each time I squeeze the mixture. I try to build it too tall. Eventually I conceded that it is done,. Though of course it is never done. I can not sit here for All Time. In this salt-water beach pond. That would just not be proper.

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