Sponges

I went to the bay today to relax and enjoy the rarely beautiful day. This summer has been filled with storms and cooler than usual weather, which has altered my summer substantially. Today I finally got to go and pass the time in my favorite way: sipping on an iced latte (decaf) while reading Vanity Fair and watching the waves lick up on the sore, closer and closer to my chair.

The bay seems to be under attack by invading sponges. As I looked up and down the shoreline I could see their goldenrod mounds washing up, bobbing back and forth as the tide carried them to and fro, without a care in the world. I was concerned about the amount of dead sponges I saw, but I thought perhaps a good number of sponges were born at the same time, and so they also die at the same time. Nothing speaks of communalism more than simultaneous mass birth and death.

With the exception of a carnivorous sponge, who eats crustaceans in nutrient poor environments, the sponge is perhaps one of the most innocuous sea creatures in the Animal Kingdom. As an invertebrate, its job is simply to cleanse the water in which it lives, which is actually a critical role in our world. For that matter, I would guess that a sponge can live a long life, as long as nothing comes along to disturb its world, most likely a human.

We take such creatures for granted and assume they will always be there, but as with most anything, there is no certainty as strong as change.

Looking at the sponge, maybe there's also something to be gained in observation. The sponge takes in everything in its surroundings and cleanses what it is able. It leads a relatively peaceful life, and hopefully in return is given the promise of a long life.

For we humans, is it possible to lead such a simple life? If we take in everything we can, never end our learning, give back to our society and lead a peaceful life, can we also have the promise of longevity? I'm not sure, but I think it's a noble ambition. Beauty is in simplicity.