Shortest day of the year
Today is the shortest day of the year---well, for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere at any rate. From here on out, the days get longer. Not by a lot, but still, they get longer.
While I may not notice that I've put my shirt on backwards, or that my socks don't match, or that they've torn down one of the local fast food restaurants, I never fail to notice the sun rising one minute sooner and staying one minute longer. Weird, I know.
I sometimes wish I lived when the rhythm of the seasons was what determined the pace of life. When the turning hands of a clock weren't so important. When what we did and when we did it was determined not by ever pressing artificial deadlines of our own creation but by the orbit of the earth.
I sometimes wonder if time would move differently if I were less conscious of it passing. If I didn't know it was 2010 and soon to be 2011...if every day wasn't numbered...if every hour wasn't named...if every month wasn't labeled. Would it matter so much? Would I feel as though it were slipping away so quickly?
Christmas seems to arrive faster every year. Logically, I know the year isn't any shorter---no one has stolen weeks or months---but it certainly feels that way.
While I may not notice that I've put my shirt on backwards, or that my socks don't match, or that they've torn down one of the local fast food restaurants, I never fail to notice the sun rising one minute sooner and staying one minute longer. Weird, I know.
I sometimes wish I lived when the rhythm of the seasons was what determined the pace of life. When the turning hands of a clock weren't so important. When what we did and when we did it was determined not by ever pressing artificial deadlines of our own creation but by the orbit of the earth.
I sometimes wonder if time would move differently if I were less conscious of it passing. If I didn't know it was 2010 and soon to be 2011...if every day wasn't numbered...if every hour wasn't named...if every month wasn't labeled. Would it matter so much? Would I feel as though it were slipping away so quickly?
Christmas seems to arrive faster every year. Logically, I know the year isn't any shorter---no one has stolen weeks or months---but it certainly feels that way.