A Movement and a Rest

This morning I had a walk, gray visit to the beach. It was low tide, as January seems the low tide of the year, but my dogs were lively, seabirds went about their business. I thought of the moon pulling the tide like a hand coiling a spring. It’ll release, and the tide’ll rise; either way, there’s turbulence, interaction–gravitation with planet, wind with water, a churning, a constant striking of sparks from flint.

It strikes me, so to speak, that there’s no need for a creator in a universe that is all creativity. It is its own creator.

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