Editor’s Letter Issue 8

Behold this line which marks the intertidal and supralittoral, where we rake and comb for treasures and find what remains of those who have passed. It lays out straight and true and yet is in both zones. This confluence upon the edge is echoed in the seas where two waters meet and the churn spreads away.

The split is the point of meeting where debris and discovery share time. It is life and death and celebration and destruction laid out on the sand for us to walk, and behind our steps we leave the wrack wake of what we do not need, which we set aside for the sea.

Here on this path of halves we see both sides of alive and acknowledge each, with respect, through dignity, in honour and power. We understand the fragility of life and the force of an ending, yet life will continue in a new form.

The washed up crab becomes a meal for the seagull and its shell grinds into sand to house the worms which feed the crabs who lost their kin. All is a cycle that rises and falls like the moon rolls over and tumbles the tides.

I write this from the charge of an Issue wrapped in grief and hope. Here be monsters, but they are of no map. We are charting the unchartable.

Prepare your feet to walk the wrack line with us. Your skin may bleed and your flesh sting as the salt digs deep but it will cleanse your wounds.

The sea provides.

Come follow this banner and see to where our steps lead. There are caves and pools and rocks and wind and this a raw gauntlet to walk, but you will feel.

Mark this.