grains
Fog is quiet and full of potential. Something emerges or it does not. The trick is to listen deeply, to see deeply, beyond what our natural senses tell us. Nearby, an invisible ship sounds its horn long and low. That figure approaching, what does it want?
“Grain upon grain, one by one, and one day, suddenly, there's a heap, a little heap, the impossible heap.” — Endgame by Samuel Beckett.
