The march of time
I’ve been told the most prominent topic of conversation throughout the generations has been and continues to be the weather. It’s hard not to talk about the weather, particularly when we’re in the mid-tones of the seasons – fading from subzero temperatures and ice into cool breezes and mud.
Lots of mud.
But I think it’s safe to say none of us bring up the weather strictly for the scientific data involved. We aren’t concerned about 50-degree high for the day so much as we’re elated with how it’s so much higher than the temperatures last week. We’re looking forward and anticipating the changes to come. There could be just as much moisture in those clouds as there was two months ago, but we know it’s more likely to meet us as rain than as snow. Water is still water, whether it’s a drop or a crystalized flake. The sun in the sky is no different than it was during the gaggle of snow storms we saw this year. Light waves are still light waves whether they meet us directly or at an angle. The season has changed, and with it the angle through which we experience our world.
What was cold and dead begins to bud. What was sheer and slick becomes smooth and flows. It’s these sorts of moments I wish humanity could emulate more closely. If we could only see things from a new angle, we could turn enemies into friends (not so much allies, because that implies there’s still an enemy to be conquered). We could turn vices into virtues. We could take all the cold, hard habits and let the buds start anew, let the ice thaw, let the anger flow away.
Of course, then we’re just left with more mud. But another season will soon come and dry that up for us. And soon after that, another season will come and blanket all we’ve expelled from ourselves in a chilly frost before the cycle begins all over again.
If we had the power, it would be tempting to try and stop the seasons. To stop the cycle. To say it’s not worth trying.
But it is.
The leaves we shed in the fall will never be the same. We don’t regress back toward what we were. We simply continue to develop in an ever present spiral. We just need some pruning from time to time.