Saturday, October 9, 2010

watching the time

I don't always wear a watch. This may be why I stood beside my car, my grocery cart laden, and finally thought to check to see how I was doing for time. "Ten thirty," I thought, startled. "How could it be only ten thirty."
Heading into large stores with no windows, can be like heading into a twilight zone. The passing of time is not easily marked. We once headed into the mall on a clear December day and emerged to complete white out conditions as a blizzard systematically shut down every route home.
Well, since it was still early, I thought wearily, I really had no excuse for not taking care of a couple more errands. Into the trunk went the groceries, and back into no man's land I headed. Later, as I turned the key and my car sprang into action, the clock in the dashboard glaringly revealed that time had indeed passed. I looked accusingly at my watch. Its winding pin had popped out of place. My watch, still labouring under the illusion that it was half past ten didn't make eye contact with me.
Time does not stand still, but I don't think it marches steadily onward either. It's one of the measureless mysteries of life, capable of crawling and taking flight, all in the same day.

No comments: