I believe that precious and fleeting go hand in hand.
Is that entirely obvious, that we treasure what doesn't last?
Do we treasure it because it doesn't last? Or is it that what doesn't last is so extraordinary that it deserves our fuller attention?
And are we capable of treasuring what does last? Of finding precious in the ordinary? I wonder.
As each moment moves me farther in space and time from this vacation, from the beach I love, from yesterday and the day before that, from last week last month last year, from small children and popsicle summers, from babes carried in arms and comforted by rocking and snuggles, from my own days at camp and the summers of my childhood, from a fork in the road or seven, from a butterfly on a branch in oak creek canyon, I wonder.