Just Too Late

Buzzard
Buzzard

I’m not much of an “if only I’d . . . ”  or even a “What a pity I didn’t  . . . ” sort of person. I have this theory, or life image, or concept of the way the Universe works – whichever is the current phrase – about how much control over our own existence each of us has. Perhaps my theory isn’t anything to do with determinism and free will – kismet and all that, perhaps it is actually a theory of time.

Anyway, this seems a good place to whitter on a bit about How Life Works. You see it’s like this. The relationship time has with humanity doesn’t run in a straight line, nor is it a straightforward  sequence of events. Each of us stands in the middle of a gigantic spider’s web of possible futures. Important point here: Radiating from everyone’s NOW are a multitude of possible futures – no pasts. The past is something that humans invented, because we need to learn from experience. It is a mental construct, nothing more.

This is important, because at every step, down whichever of the futures you choose to proceed – you will be standing at the centre of a gigantic spider’s web of possible futures.

The Dog, whose grasp of philosophy is profound, barked at the window. Going over to see what was causing the excitement I found a buzzard sitting on the ridge of the barn roof, not ten yards away. I ran for the camera. Carefully, I poked the camera round the curtain, trying to remain out of view. As I pressed the shutter release – he took off.

Sometimes it’s hard to stay philosophical.