Trapped in the echoes of my daily chores, the places I see become a passing blur, locked up in some vaulted memory. Then I stop to behold the sights, hear the sounds and breathe the fumes My own insanity is superceded by the mechnical accuracy surrounding me. In this moment of pause, I embrace the difference between the sights & sounds I now take for granted and the beauty of my childhood. It was a childhodd - far from pristine - yet ensconced in a bossom much closer to nature. Back then, I also took the beauty of the cattle grazing on the lush rolling summer hills for granted. It seems the heart's eternal quest to desire that which is distant rather than appreciate the present for what it is worth. In that dialectic lies the utopia of happiness in whatever present we can deal with.
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