HG Wells book "The Time Machine" was turned into a movie in 1960. It's too much to write up the whole story. The part I want to get to is this: The main character, George, sits in a seat in a machine that transports him through time. George is able to observe time changing through a large window. The main focus is on a shop window- a nifty tool to represent the changes in fashion that reflect the changing years.
Now, why would I write about this time machine? Where is my mind wandering?
Just about every morning I sit on the deck and feed Buddy. I listen to the birds and I look at the trees and flowers. Watching the buds plump up and then become tiny, bright green leaves, feels like I am watching time move and travel. The passage of time is both abstract and real.
Each day there is change. Subtle yes, but there it is. shortly, the leaves will have become a darker shade of green and will fill out and cover the trees.
We age. A phenomenon that has been observed and wondered about probably forever. We accept it.
With babies, we chart the growth and progress. Making sure the baby is getting enough good nourishment. And love. We see the baby's emotional growth and personality. So much of it "natural" and so much of it inherited by behaving in the ways the parents and other older people treat the baby. How the baby is expected to walk and smile and roll over.
The baby is rewarded. The adults are rewarded too. The time machine keeps moving forward. And the mystery and wonder and awe continue. And then...so many explanations and beliefs and traditions.
And as author Kurt Vonnegut wrote: