What is striking to me about this picture of surf hitting rocks in Maine is that the rock, solid granite, has been worn smooth by the constant plunging wear of the water, advancing, retreating, advancing again.
You could put your hand to this stone, as I did, and feel a surface polished as smooth as a tombstone.
Perhaps our sense of time, based upon our meager life existence of “four score and seven,” is too short. How our perspective would change if our worldview was the same as the rocks of this earth.
Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be.