Sometimes, I want to let my photographs tell the story. Sometimes my brain is overflowing with words and thoughts.
Where do I go with my thoughts at the end of a long day, or week? As the sky rumbles with thunder and the dark clouds drop water molecules, where do I go? When my brain is crammed with so much to think and do.
I wonder if we were to add an hour or two to the day, how that would affect everything. Schedules would be a mess. All the clocks would be wrong. Our sleep patterns would be horribly disrupted. We would think, at first, that it is a good thing. Extra hours in the day to get more done. How strange our world would quickly become.
The rainstorm at present is a cloudburst. Heavy and unyielding. A sudden river formed in the alley behind my home, flowing down toward the end of the street. Leaves are floating along, rushing down the narrow passage downhill. Since I am at the top a hill (hill in the Florida sense), it all flows away.
What if the flow suddenly reversed and decided to run toward me? Uphill?
What if the rain that falls decided to defy gravity and simply hang in the air as droplets? How strange our world would be is one small thing of our world familiar was altered. It would seem like we were dipping our minds into the imagination.
Our lives are like streams that flow in one direction. Once we pass through the grassy field of delight we cannot go back. But up ahead is a lovely trail we will pass through, so pay attention, because time only goes one way.
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