Passing Time and Places

 Tempus fugit. It's the Latin phrase that rolls easily off our tongues when a relaxing day has slipped away, engaging conversation has settled into silence, or a series of years is reflected upon. Arguably, there is no better way to express the value we place on enjoyment of self, friends, and places.

But what about when we pass through unique and beautiful places so swiftly that the road behind us is but a blur.

I'm not sure whether such a sustained, rapid pace of travel should be communicated as memories made or memories lost.

My wife and I spent two years traveling the United States in an RV. Sometimes we spent a few months in a place, but more frequently just a few days. We enjoyed breathtaking views of nature and architecturally unique communities. We saw, in two years, more of the country that many people will see in a lifetime. 

How much of it do I remember? Very little. 

I can tell you all about the times we set up and packed up at campsite after campsite - the logistics of converting a trailer into a home and a home into a trailer because it happened time and time again...and again...and again.

But those awe inspiring vistas and unique architectures?  With little exception they are lost in a blur.

I am reminded of a toy top I had as a toddler. Two pieces of cupped metal joined at a seam that would have inspired thoughts of UFO's had they been painted silver. The toy top was covered with colorful pictures of circus animals, numbered building blocks, ABC's. The colors included every shade of blue, red, yellow, green, to be found in a box of 32 crayons. 

Until... 

I pulled upward on the wooden handle atop the not-very-silvery UFO to reveal a twisted metal rod.

And then...

I pushed down on the wooden handle caused the wormed metal rod to engage a metal gear deep within the top, which started the top on a slow spin. Pulling up on the handle and rod, pushing down, pulling up, pushing down, over and over again until the top spun at such a speed that the dozens of colored images blurred into just half-a- dozen solid stripes.

That's what has happened to my memories of the dozens upon dozens of places my wife and I visited.

Of course, once the top stopped, all of the individual pictures and colors were identifiable again.

So what I hope to do over many subsequent blog posts is pull individual experiences out of the blur and make them unique again by sharing pictures and memories.

You are welcome to come along for the second time around if you are so inclined.