When the water of Galveston Bay reflects the sun in a deep gold, I am reminded of Robert Frost's poem:

"Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay."

To me, it isn't just at dawn that the preciousness, the gold of a new beginning, can be seen and lived. The early leaf, the flower of youth, it applies to any moment in our lives when we encounter beauty, excitement, hope.

If gold can't stay, if leaf subsides to leaf, maybe neither can our environment survive, our lives as we know them, youth, the things we hold precious. But as with night and day, a circle is created. Darkness to light, endings and beginnings. Bad things to good things.

In the future, our island will change too. We will build houses, see children grow up and people move away. We see birth and death shape her shores. A million years down the way, our sandbank barrier could be flooded, eroded, washed away and possibly turn into a barren desert.

But as long as we have the gold to hold for a little longer, for these moments when the buzz of our plugged-in existences quiets and we stand by the shore and hold her hue of beauty, of promise, we have a chance at recognizing that the flower is there, blooming in front of our eyes, a part of who we are, a part of our heritage. As time and again, a promise is re-made.

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