In the great quietness of these winter evenings there is one clock: the sea. Its dim momentum in the mind is the fugue upon which this writing is made. Empty cadences of sea-water licking its own wounds, sulking along the mouths of the delta, boiling upon those deserted beaches– empty, forever empty under the gulls: white scribble on the grey, munched by clouds.
by Lawrence Durrell
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"In the quiet winter evenings, the sea becomes the only clock, symbolizing the passage of time and the rhythm of nature. Its slow, steady movements create a sense of contemplative silence that inspires this writing."
"The sea is depicted as a melancholic force, endlessly licking its wounds and simmering along deserted shores, emphasizing themes of emptiness and solitude. The imagery of birds and clouds adds to the somber, reflective mood...
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