Reflection

Reflection

Time, like the ocean, appears endless. Both are so vast that we often forget they have their limits. Visiting a sanctuary working to keep sea turtles from extinction taught me of these limits. The funny little swim of the tiny hatchlings seemed joyful and so innocent. Only 1 in 1,000 survive to adulthood, deepening the loss that half of these will later ingest plastic or trash, costing most their lives. Afterwards, walking along the remote beach, I kept seeing deadly plastic washed up on the shore. Our lack of care for the ocean robs magnificent marine animals of their time to live. In my piece, pristine blue waves, without a trace of our mistakes ─ no plastic, no oil, no melting ice ─ pass through a double-ended clock representing what is now, what has been, and what could still be. Flowing out from this clock are dirty waves, the same ocean now sickened. The two clocks symbolize cycles of either life or death contingent on what humans choose. Gilded with greed, made of shiny factories connecting how our past and present pollutes the hope of the future; they pour out glittering, climate-changing smoke to indicate how human wants are purchased at the expense of the time that the Earth, its oceans, and ecosystems have left before they fall apart beyond repair. Things do fall apart and we are largely responsible, but that does not mean that they cannot be restored. The clock is ticking, time almost spent. The question is, will we change in time?