And now, you oceans. You mighty blue tides. Tell me your stories. Spare no details and pull no punches. Your legacy. As curious as dark matter or the heart of a woman. Your sunsets. Show me no mercy. Tell us of how we failed you and made you proud in the same breath. How hands that lay waste to hopes and dreams can be the shapers of epic destinies. How every triumphant march is full of Achilles heels. How all our heroes are flawed and fallen. It's fun. It's fast. It's slow. It's frustrating. It's longsuffering. Patience-building. Smelly. Good. Bad. Beautiful. It's both and not either or. You bone gardens, remind me that I am animated dust. And so is the pedestal I put my mother on. And the platform I stand on to reach yours ears. And sit in your hard drives.