Change Occurring

I am surrounded by robins.

The birds are playing today. Their chirping is incessant, diverse in pitch. They dart after one another at rapid speeds down over the pond. The wind blows softly, rippling the green-brown water, water that has been concealed by ice for many months now.

Change fascinates me. Some of us love it, some of us hate it. But what fascinates me, apart from its inevitability, is its dependence upon memory. We perceive only instants, and our recollection of previous instants informs us that this moment is different, that change has occurred. I remember total silence last time I came to the cemetery. Now, the robins' noise is perpetual, and I deduce that weather patterns account for the change. I search for reasons for this instant being different than the instants of my memory.

I suppose change is inseparable from time. Over time, the dead brown spindles of the weeping willow before me will fall, and the limbs will sprout green life once again. The beige grass below me will not remain beige. Change and time occur and progress, regardless of our intentions. I could have received the most devastating news of my life this morning, but in coming here, I still would have heard the birds in their play. They do not seem concerned that we just experienced a brutal winter. They just seem happy they are here.

There's never enough time. Well, maybe I should rephrase. For some things, some experiences, there is never enough time. Big projects. Moments spent with loved ones. Yet for other experiences, time cannot move fast enough. I could not wait for winter to end. Now it is coming to a close, and still I feel great pressure. For Graduate school is coming to a close, and never again will I be able to devote two years so wholeheartedly to a project, surrounded by energetic, smiling people doing the same thing. Life is getting in the way.

But I am in a place where I believe this to be a good thing. Being occupied with various tasks allows for space. The further I dive into my novel, the less connected I feel with people. Other tasks help. This walk helps. Deep breaths help. The robins help.

We aren't here to do just one thing. We are capable of so much.