Happy New Year

2013 … almost over

What a strange and arbitrary notion we have; time and its imposition upon us.

Times past, we measured by thumb at arm’s length, the passage of the sun above the horizon, or passage across the sky as the distance we could walk comfortably.

Time was a measure of distance, and always, a destination, a journey, a goal. Now it’s a measure of … of …?

I refuse to own a digital watch; a face and dials seem more appropriate, yet my devices — cell, iPad, laptop — all count relentlessly (is that down? or up?), placing those results in an understandable form resembling my old ‘face-ful’ watch. What time is it? A glance tells me it’s just past noon. No journey in that, is there, but if I were to say, by three o’clock, by the sun’s set above the horizon, by its move from south to south west, I will arrive at my destination — now that becomes personal, meaningful.

I don’t want to win a ‘gold-cup’ by a nanosecond, but I would always love to spend the sun’s passage with family and friends.

Happy New Year  🙂  And may you rejoice in the journey of 2014, with its immeasurable, immemorial passages across time.


Time for Fireflies

Woke up at 4 A.M. and Warren asked if I heard the noises outside. He got up to go out and investigate, then reported 2 animals in the far wood shed; probably raccoons or porcupines, I think to myself. We enjoy a cup of coffee, return to bed around 6. As I write these words, it’s just past 10 a.m., very hot, humid and hazy — the 3–rrr’s of a classic Ontario summer day.

This will be the last week of school for public school kids in this area. I remember how that last week of school dragged. I remember when it finally ended — I never did figure out how to speed up time — I would think about July and August, ten or so weeks; the time allotted me seemed to stretch out endlessly, no school, hot swimming weather, unplanned days of summer vacation, and it did.

Now… the opposite.

I look ahead to July and August and wonder how to slow time’s passage, but it never does; the weeks fly by like the reels of an old–fashioned projector, spinning so fast you cannot see the reel’s four or five fat spokes.

Fireflies drift,
     embracing velvet heat;
          dark nights float by
In silence,
     broken only by the
          flash of their bright
                   — dance of the fireflies
                   — w.e.s., June 23rd, 2013

Another Friday


Yes, today is Friday, but what does that mean? Nothing, really, since all our time-making is quite arbitrary.

Indulge in a bit of conspiracy theory and one might come to believe time-keeping yet another way in which ‘they‘ (that somebody, somewhere, ever unidentified, ever authoritarian) have used something of the universal continuum to control, to enslave, or worse yet, to manage us.

Yet, we are all complicit, are we not, with our time-pieces, our birthdays, our histories and eras … ?

The very ancients probably didn’t keep time, but rather passed through it, as the earth passes through its orbit around the sun, the sun through the galaxy, the galaxy through our universe.

The ancients would have noted the seasons, counting moonrises, or locating the sun in its various rises and sets upon the horizon. They would have seen this as a measure of survival, something vital, directing them to the next ripening fruit, or salmon run, or herd migration.

Our most ancient ancestors marked not time, but wisdom. It is why we are here today on this Friday of Fridays.