So time does, indeed, march on. It always has and I guess it always will. But always is an awful long time moniker, don’t you think? and the image of time marching, well it sort of conjures up a military style image don’t you think? I can see time now, in its camouflage fatigues and shiny army boots high stepping forward, the epitome of the march of time. I suppose that is what times does, it marches forward regardless of those humans who fall along its path. I mean seasons come and go while vegetation pushes up from the soil, unfurls, blooms, produces its fruit, withers, rots and returns to the soil, all the while aided by the march of time. Babies of all sorts and species are conceived, gestated, born, cherished or not cherished, move through childhood, early adulthood, middle and late life stages, contribute (or not) to the lives around them, die, and return to the soil. All the while time continues its forward march and for as much as I can tell, it does not slow its beat, mourn the comings and goings of mere mortals or beloved dog companions. Is time heartless? Most likely. and really given its forward motion, would we want it to pause at each passing, each season. Would we want time to be influenced by human frivolity, our outrageous acts, our puny efforts to exercise control over its automated self?