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Time is a curious beast. Regardless of who we are and what we desire, time passes and takes no quarter. And while we know this and are acutely aware of the passing of time, as those grains of sand accumulate our ability to grasp them slips through our fingers like well, grains of sand. Sometimes the only marker of time passed by is change. For change is the evidence of time. And much like we don’t see ourselves going gray in the mirror daily, we are shocked to see an old friend who is now salt and pepper for it seems so sudden. We look around our homes and can’t see the curtains bleached from the sun, the carpet less fluffy than the day we rolled around on it after installation. Even the plants in our gardens appear suddenly taller and more full. For as fast as time passes, change can be glacially slow. But change is certain and though we may not see it as it happens, when we look back at photos of our garden, or move the couch to reveal an untrampled spot of carpet we may be shocked at the transformation and feel betrayed by our inability to recognize or remember this change. And for the most part those changes are now part of the story; nothing and no one is immune to change.
