Thursday, August 30, 2012

The Truth about Time

The other night I was going to walk back to the tent and forgot my lantern (battery, just so you don't worry I'm going to burn down Northern California). Julia forgot her was, pre-moon, no more than a crescent dark out there!). So I took my open computer, walked her to her tent and then walked to mine. Computer as flashlight; it works. If I already told you that story...oops!

End of magic light time from my tent view
Then, a couple of nights ago, I forgot my lantern again - this seems to be a theme. But in the light of a half moon, I figured I could feel my way down the beaten path and down the other not so beaten path without getting snagged on the barbed wire fence that runs along the way to where the tent is. I hoped. If you find yourself in that situation, here is a song I sung along the way. You may use it freely.

In the light (light light light) of the silvery moon
I'll scare a bear, or maybe just a racoo ooo oon.
I'll be home soon, by the light of the moon.

In the li li li li light of the silvery moo ooo oon
I'll sing away a mountain lion la la la soon.

There's my tent, I think it's right up ahead
I feel no dre dre dread in the light la la lalalala. La.

~repeat as often as necessary, in this case, once.

I don't sing that song in the daylight; I mean, hell, the tent's right there!
That song is about how long it took to actually get to my tent. Maybe two minutes. But time, my friends, is a rubber band. In fact, it's a lot of rubber bands. There is time like that fat purple rubber band that is around asparagus, the kind that is barely stretchy and you are sure you are going to wreck the asparagus or wreck your car or wreck your way-too-late-to-be-home kid's neck with that kind of time.

Purple rubber band time
With time like purple rubber band happening, there is probably a clock ticking in the background. Of your head. Loudly.

Then there is just good old brown stretchy rubber band time. The kind of time we should live in most of the time. A little late, a little early, who cares? It's the way people used to eat dinner together time, playing b ball in the driveway time, laughing with cohorts at work time. There give and there's take and things work out.

But the time I seem to know best is...knobbly, barely any elastic, you know if you aren't careful it's going to break and then it does rubber band time. There's a second where you know it's going to break but you're already thinking maybe I can tie it together but you also know it will just fall apart more and more insultingly, leave that rubbery stickiness that shouldn't even be in such a dried up worthless $%^&* rubber band but is. Um, where was I?

Point being, a walk in the barely more than dark light to the tent, that takes maybe two minutes, took about thirty minutes in rubber band time. The song helped, nay, the song worked! No bears, no mountain lions, not even a racoo ooo oon!

Of course, just to be thorough, there is Culebra Time. Which is outside of all time and inside of it too. It's time where 'maƱana' does not mean tomorrow. It means when it happens it will happen if it has to happen at all. It's my favorite of all times and the kind, when I really let it flow through and around me, makes me the most content.

Culebra Time sort of looks like this 

 But really more like this

 And a whole lot like this

Or this. Ok, now I'm just being silly.

(As of today, I now have two unworkable cameras. I love my cameras, but there is this nasty little flaw in this series of Canons...and I've gotten bitten in the butt by it before, though I usually have a back up. So...depending on how much my phone camera works, we'll walk through this together, gentle readers, until I get things fixed. Which depends on a few factors. The biggest being when I'll be near a camera fixing place. So bear with me, por favor! I'm hoping PRM will happen and I'll be able to get the Blue Moon, keep your fingers crossed!)

Also, give some time to think about (and even do something about if you can?) the people badly affected by Isaac. They are still not out of the bad zone and many have lost homes. We've been so fortunate at home and they haven't been. 

Have a take time Thursday. Do something transparently tiptoeingly timely.

1 comment:

  1. Absolutely lovely, and I thank you,