I found myself awe-struck as I watched the news a few years ago. An entire dock from Japan washed up on the coast of Oregon, a small memento of the huge tsunami that destroyed thousands of lives in 2011. How many miles it had traveled! My mouth hung slightly open, jealous of its journey as I stood there, still as still could be.
It didn't look spectacular by any means-- the trip across the ocean had weathered it greatly and it was covered in barnacles, seaweed and shells. Still, people came from far and wide to see it, not because it was beautiful, but because its story was so spectacularly horrific and the journey was so long, yet it had survived.