An early-spring fog has settled on Halcyon Pond. A fog that delays the dawn, that slows time, that envelopes us in a sense of timelessness.
I wonder about the nature of time, how it confounds our senses in so many ways:
…time stood still
…the moment passed in a twinkling of an eye
…the vague sense that we might have lived before or might live again.
It’s interesting, isn’t it, that more and more scientists are positing that it is time we don’t understand, that perhaps a sense of time is a limitation of our sensory capabilities. Science fiction writers explore all the variations of time and timelessness, the possibility that all moments exist in this one moment, that we are limited by our ability to sense only three dimensions—plus “time.” One could argue that all our confounding experiences can be explained by a different theory of time.
But is it a limitation? What would our lives be if time did not exist? Without time there is no change. There is no anticipation. Memories, nostalgia—where would they be? Would there be a contrail flying over and reflecting in Halcyon Pond? Is there experience in a time-less world? It is said that the angels envy us. I wonder if it isn’t because we live a life defined by time passing, a life that is not eternal.
And so, I am again brought back from probing the edges of our existence. There is so much that lies beyond our understanding. But it seems that exploring those mysteries serves to make more poignant the beauty of the world within our reach. It serves to fill me with the simple wonder at that which is within our understanding.