Time Travels

I borrowed a book from a friend, The Illusion of the End, by Jean Baudrillard, a French postmodern theorist.

Aside from my love of all things French, what attracted me to the book was the jacket blurb on the back cover re the books thesis or argument that “the notion of the end is part of the fantasy of a linear history.”

From The Last Wave (Australian movie of my young adulthood, a movie that explores the intersection of Aboriginal dream time with that on the wrist watch), to the Deja Vu of formative music years, to today’s immediate stimuli bringing to life “past” experiences (see Negley Park post), senses of time have long appealed to me.

Nostalgia and newness seem to be inexorably linked, and become, or are, a conjugation of past, present, and future.

Time defines space, and place, as much as longitude and latitude.

I often try to walk as slowly as I can, and in doing so speed up the sensory intake.  Sight, smell, and sound take on a richness, and become a more complete meal when seasoned with time.

Still no “new” photos to post, but do have an archival bunch from a prior walk to the mouth of the Hopkins River and back.

This walk is new every time, yet its attraction is its sameness....

The benchmark of any good walk: Think Of Others. Travel Slowly.

Bridge across a sea of green.

Looking back at Lady Bay, where I've been, and soon enough to be where I'm going.

Not sure if coming or going, but follow the yellow brick road.

Nearing the end of the road. One good turn deserves another.

Two paths diverged in the sunshine. I took the one most lit.

Brown and grey seeds, yellow flowers, black and white magpie, and fifty shades of green.

Bunyips in daytime disguise as bunnies.

A river runs through it to the sea.

Looking west.....

Looking east....

East meets west looking north.

 

Outstanding tree out standing in its field.

Greens, a grey, and blues are a very palatable treat.

This grass is the best.

On the verge of something great.

Losing track of time.