Time Flies, and Then it Creeps, by Doug McVadon


Time flies, and then it creeps. 
Time is an animal that stalks me in my sleep.

I am in a hurry to get things done so I can get some “down time.”
Speed up to slow down.

This is what I have learned about time.
It varies with my level of engagement, with my mood.
When I am enjoying myself I don’t notice the passage of time.
When I am bored or distracted, I check my watch or my phone.

Certain tasks take as long as they do, like making dinner or comforting a child.
Other tasks must be completed in the allotted time, like getting to the airport.

Time is in the hands of the clock-watcher: has it been “a whole hour” or “just an hour?”
I walked out into the backyard at Mom and Dad’s place in northern Virginia on the morning after Christmas. I had our new black and white dog on a red leash as she ran into the snow! Realizing it was her first time in snow, I had to let her go off the leash for a few minutes at least! 

Leaping, sliding, eating the crunchy white stuff caked on steps up to the back porch, and then she was thrusting her nose fearlessly into the icy ivy, then running again, sniffing madly.

Now she was taking too long.
I had to be on my call in just a few minutes.
Suddenly I am upset with her. Lacey, come here!
Her sudden look of surprise awakens me to my change of tone.
I have become an alien, not the happy human who released her to the snow.

What am I thinking?
I am usually in a hurry to make it to these kinds of moments, alone with my dog in the still falling snow at Christmastime, with my family snug and warm inside the decorated house. We hike far away and take “time off” to experience such moments.

A magic moment of morning, black dog on white snow, stillness of the holiday, and I stop and watch my breath, and pause to notice how much I take that breath for granted.
And I am happy and humbled and lose track of time.

When I stumble inside trying to wipe my feet while walking, I notice it hasn’t been very many minutes. I made it on time for my call. I was calm. 

I had been to the mountaintop, the one where time slows down, lost in the breath of the dog on the new fallen snow.

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