Returning

We are always looking toward the horizon, whether out the front window or through the rear view mirror…the relative size of these two images is purposeful…through the big window lies a frontier unexplored, one where our choices are yet to be made, where we control our fate with the turn of the wheel…the image in the rearview is minuscule, a thin fiber of memory trapped in the illusion of time, unalterable yet perpetually following in our wake. All that said, I find myself constantly returning to the horizon ahead and the thin layer of convergence between night and day…a sliver of shadow expressed in vivid colors and defined so vaguely that, in its pursuit, we often fail to recognize that we are in it until it has passed us by and all that remains is the flash of a dark aura that consumes our wake…steering our ships around the earth, eyes on the horizon, we make the constant choice to pursue the unattainable and to fill our dreams with the vivid glowing expression of the passage of time.

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