Originally published January 1, 2021, after I was gifted this photo captured from an old slide.
1991
Early spring
Jim’s hills, I think?
Little Mark at five years old, Ed at 53
Who took this picture?
Such a perfect composition
Such a perfect meditation
On presence and impermanence
The pasqueflowers, long awaited through winter’s cold
Bloom only for a few days
The feather cast off and soon to return to the Earth
But as yet unblemished by time
And ourselves, fully present and immersed
Sharing a moment of joy together
On a river of time
So many years ahead, yet unknown
Stanton and Frances still alive
Twenty-five more cycles for Ed
Twenty-five more springtimes
Twenty-five more seasons of that hat
A very finite number
Yet seemingly infinite and indefinite
In each passing day and year
Floods, gardens, Christmas celebrations
Graduations, weddings, travels
All unknown and unknowable in this moment
All unimportant in this moment
So much time we spend
Seeking for truth
Examining the nature of reality
Pondering ideologies
Debating with anger and passion
Experiencing others’ stories in the news
Interacting with a virtual world through our screens
It all seems so meaningful and important
And it is, in a way
Creating this collective experience together
And seeking to find our home and our truth within it
And yet in a world of seven billion human souls
There is little we can change
And we should perhaps take solace In our individual insignificance
We can read the writings of Greek and Roman philosophers
Heed the teachings of Jesus or Mohamed
Honor the founding fathers of our nation
Read the autobiographies of former slaves
Pick our way through competing narratives
And campaign for a better world
That is important for our evolution
For our betterment
And yet narrative and thought exists outside of time
All of history available in the present
All of the present available in the cloud
All of that removed, abstracted, separated
From the pasqueflowers and feathers
The explorations and gatherings
The gardens and harvests and births and deaths
The singular uniqueness of each moment
The bittersweet inevitability of change
And the inevitable finiteness of human life
To step too far into the cloud
To spend too many hours on our screens
Is to step into a timeless existence
Unaffected by the weather
Unnoticing of the pasqueflowers
Unchanging with the seasons
Outside the river of time
Which flows on regardless
Carrying us from cradle to grave
Whether we are awake
Or inured to the wonders around us
So let this be a reminder to me
In times of collective anxiety
Of competing narratives
Of unrest and upheaval
To find the pasqueflowers in their short season
And the daphnes and the lilacs
To plant the seeds
To watch them grow
To harvest in its time
To look in the eyes of those I love
And see them as who they are in this moment
An alive, experiencing presence
Not merely a collection of stories and ideas and memories
Of narratives and perceptions and arguments past
To be present in each moment, in each day, in each year
Knowing that what is will not last
Which is both bittersweet and cause for celebration
And perhaps if we can all be more present
Away from our screens and echo chambers of thought
Then we might be able to begin to agree
On what is real
We might be able to share experiences
To build connections
To find our way forward together
In a chaotic, uncertain, tumultuous
But ultimately beautiful world