I remember walking along the beach, leaving a trail of footprints behind me in the soft sand. When I turned around a little later, they were already disappearing.
The wind had moved through while I wasn’t looking, sweeping the sand into delicate lines and patterns across the shore. It was almost as if the beach had quietly erased my presence and started again.
I stood there watching, fascinated by how quickly something could disappear. My footprints, along with the tracks of birds and other visitors, were slowly covered until the sand looked untouched.
It made me think about how temporary our marks can be. Nature doesn’t hold onto them forever—it reshapes, softens, and carries them away. There was something beautiful about being reminded that not everything is meant to last.
