Cannot catch one. Cannot save one – cannot wrap it, cannot give yours away.
Earth is perhaps our most reliable observer of time’s passing. Every day, in one revolution, life passes before us, over and over, another earth-spin-around, 1/365th of its sun orbit.
Simply measurements of time. Every day. Not measurements of our action or of our inaction - days are empty time blocks. Not a measure of quality, of life or of death – just passage of time.
Whatever we call it, we seem to ascribe human qualities, experiential qualities, to this recurring passage of time. Seems we give them values – good days, bad days, happy days, sad days, precious days.
Filling them, using them – now you’re talkin’.
Now, that’s when we have the time of our life …
written / published from Calgary, AB
morning walk: -6C (windchill -15C)/21F, light snowy blanket fell overnight, blowing/drifting now with snow shaping like active sand dunes soon to be crusty and firm, Gusta feeling frisky in her fur coat – wind in our faces coming back, attention getting …
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