A Roll in the Universe

This was the week the snow melted. Granted, there's still snow in the mountains, which should keep the snow bunnies during Easter vacation happy. But here, at sea level, the snow has gone. The rain came and washed away the winter. This morning I heard the seagulls. One sign of spring is the 4 am squawking of seagulls eating worms on the lawns. Or whatever the heck it is the seagulls are doing. I enjoy spring, I like the slow awakening after 3 months or so of gray, naked nature. In February the magpies start to build their nests, and I've been observing several great tits fighting over the bird box my friend Torleif hung up last year. But now I can see the green grass and the ground. I can see a hint of green in trees and bushes as the sap rises. I can even smell the earth. This spring's different for me, though. I have hungered for it. I have longed for the light, the lengthening days, the lessening of storms and bitter cold. I don't quite know why, though I suspe

Recently my Grandma wanted to know if I was the one who had told her that her mother had died. I am the one who has to remind her that her mother died – way back in the 1960's, but I'm not the one who told her originally. Moments like those make it clear to me that time and memory are linked. One does not function or exist without the other. Time helps us organize our memories; remembering what date it is or how old we were (age as time-keeper), helps us sort events. Lose track of time, and the events no longer line up in sequence, but start to happen all at once. At the very same moment my grandma is talking to her adult granddaughter, I am also my mother and my great-grandmother may or may not still be living. The memories pile on top of each other, and with as much order as any pile (last in, first out). Memory also helps us keep track of time. Remembering what you did today and that it was different from what you did yesterday, actually helps you keep track of the