I didn't see it right away. It wasn't conspicuous and didn't try to be noticed. White, almost transparent, it grew right in the scorching sand—where, it seemed, nothing should grow. The sun was high. The sand was hot, almost scorching. And right there, at the very edge of the shore, the lily bloomed. It seemed fragile. But the longer I looked at it, the clearer it became: its strength wasn't in its defense, but in its ability to exist. It didn't hide. It didn't seek shade. It