There’s a reason the ocean keeps making poets out of ordinary people. You stand at the water’s edge and the body recognizes something older than language: a rhythm that began long before your first worry and will go on long after your last. The shoreline is a living metronome; the waves arrive, the waves recede, …
There are certain dates in history that refuse to be forgotten, not because they were chosen for celebration, but because something happened—so loud, so spectacular, so absurd, that the world had no choice but to listen. August 27 is one of those days. It is a date born of chaos and curiosity, destruction and delight. …
