© Robin Edmundson, 'Backlit Barn, Early Fall', watercolor, 10 x 14 inches. $375.
It's October already. The leaves are turning and we've had our first frost. This year has kept on moving despite all the upheaval.
I've been thinking a lot about time this year. Sometimes it felt as if things were standing still and other times, I blink and it's 3 months later.
I find myself a little anxious that things are moving too quickly for me and I feel like I'm always behind. I want things to slow down.
Do you remember the Star Trek movie, Insurrection? One of the themes is the ability to slow time. There are a couple of lovely scenes where Picard is focused on something so intently that time slows right down.
It's that intention, attention and focus that helps me 'slow time'.
I was in the garden the other day, quickly picking beans, trying to finish and cross that thing off the list, when I looked up and saw a vulture gliding in slow curves on an updraft. I heard myself breathe deep and as I focused on that beautiful arc of movement in the sky, I could feel time stop for moment.
And I watched.
We talk about time slowing down, but time is a constant. Time marches on. Time flies. In Latin, 'tempus fugit' literally means time flees. It runs away.
It's we who have to slow down. To stop. Time slows when we slow.
That afternoon in the garden, it was not time that slowed and stopped. I was the one who slowed, who stopped for those moments with intention, to pay attention and to focus on that miracle of flight.
That smooth glide through the sky.
That silent, joyful, gentle spiral.
Higher. On a breath of warm wind.
Higher.
Higher.
Around in another slow arc.
One more time.
Higher.
I stopped; time stopped.
The vulture floated higher and my heart rose with it.
I hope, my wonderful friends, that you take a moment to stop time for something lovely that crosses your path today.