The Ocean Has A Job

Looking out at the ocean I watch the waves recede and then return to the shore, crashing with all of the violence of the storm that brought them here. The sun shines now, but the remnants of the past week are still visable in each wave. The ocean has a job. It cleanses the beach and stirs up its waterworld environment so that all of its inhabitants can survive and live and swim along. It has a job and it knows it. It doesn’t get paid for it. It didn’t ask for it. It just knows what to do.

The ocean is an incredible thing, and, like tornadoes, is somewhat sentient. It didn’t have to grovel for its job. It didn’t have to beg. It didn’t even have to dress up for its interview. It was granted the position on its merits. The ocean is so lucky to be alive in a form where it doesn’t have to depend on the humanity and sensitivity of man.

The Ocean Has A Job

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