In the Early Evening

Once in the early evening, just after sunset, I left my beach house and walked down to the seashore. I stood on the sand and looked out over the water.

Suddenly the ocean parted, straight down the middle! Holy Moses!

The waters receded to my left and right until they were no longer visible. What had they revealed underneath?

Oh, no big deal. Just another ocean, scarcely distinguishable from the first.

A few moments later, it was with somewhat jaundiced eye that I watched the second sea part also. Well? Is there going to be something new and interesting below that one? I asked myself.

Big deal yet again. Only another ocean under the second, and indistinguishable from it.

I wondered if, were I to sail across that third sea, I would come to some land which, when crossed, would turn out to be the shore of some as yet unvisited ocean, which would part, revealing another sea beneath, which one could sail across to discover yet another land and another new sea, and so forth ad infinitum.

Perhaps so. But in view what I had just witnessed, it seemed unlikely that such an endeavor would yield anything new, anything of interest.

Geez. Enough of this speculation. It appears that there's nothing new to be found out there. Guess I'll stay where I am.

I turned and strolled back to the house.