45 minutes leaves no time to break stride

in 45 minutes, you can take a lot of pictures. if you had only 45 minutes- the moments given to stop on the highway, wash your hands, drink a glass of water, eat a sandwich, put gas in the car- would you stop somewhere else? maybe somewhere so laden with history there's no way to fathom the true import? or would you say- the easiest, safest, fastest thing to say- that there's no time?

45 days would not be enough to see most of these places, see them well. knowing i'd probably never be back, knowing that we had time to eat a sandwich on the highway, knowing that there was another long set of meetings waiting at the next destination- my incredible husband stopped, often at my quick request. we'd move through these palaces and museums and god knows what else at breakneck speed. it's all we could do. his travel schedule was brutal. i was given the chance to go with him a few times (never for a moment did i forget what a blessing that was- he was away from home so much). we saw things some can't stop to see. i took a zillion pictures, knowing there'd be time later on to look closely at things (it became my habit not to break stride, just to click).

that i might possibly share some of the beauty with you was often in the back of my mind. long run. short time. worth each second spent looking. many of the traveling days left me hours on my own; i'd usually take off and try to see whatever scraps of history and life i might find, stuff them in pockets, bring them back. now i give them to you in odd patchwork patterns, little collages, happy snips sheered from fast dashes through. it was an honor to be able to see all of it, and it's a grace to be able to present to anyone who finds some source of interest [thanks]. how fleeting the time was, how blessed we were to be there, how dear each step.

1 comment:

  1. we have all gathered here
    at your feet
    for those moments
    when you break stride

    and share.

    a lovely epitaph
    to past lives
    and change to come