Sign of the Times

As I approach the ripe age of 25, I have slowly come to truly value my time. This isn't to say that in the past I haven't; rather, it feels as though I've caught up to the slowly drifting movement of time.

There are moments where time seems to drift away; slowly fading into a sinking void – merging our essence with our immediate environment, where we inevitably become the moment. During these precious fragments of our lives, time no longer exists.

Time is the only thing in this world that is unavoidable – but why can't we control it? Why can't we gain a grasp on it? Will it ever be possible to control it? What would happen if we could?

Sometimes – for me at least – thinking about time sends a wave of discomfort through my body. I get nervous just thinking about it. We can always look back with certainty, yet certainty does not exist when looking forward – nothing is ever guaranteed, not even tomorrow.

We spend so much time evaluating the past and planning for the future, yet we seldom think about the present.

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Cattle enjoying the lush green pasture out on the outskirts of Ireland. The countryside of Ireland is remarkable (especially with amazing weather)!