the sea

It is a beautiful backdrop, where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea. Thousands of year this view has probably been the same, yet no two waves, breaking on the shores, are the same.
The old tree, cut off at the base, is the only remaining vestige of things long gone, yet its presence points me back to other times. To a different place.
The already and the not yet of living in the here and now. 
I can't change the past, but I can influence the future.  
Like those waves breaking on the shoreline, which, over many years, shape the stones, my "wave" will matter and count in eternity.