I was driving back from a friend’s house a couple of evenings ago. I’m feeding and watering his ducks (3 Campbell crosses, one miscellaneous), chickens (5 Plymouth rocks), and one goat (hyper-active). The sun had just set seconds before I got into the car. On my left, the snow-covered Manzanos took the exact color of the twilight on my right.
The moment was breathtaking. A voice, or something like it, said in my mind, ‘Time is sin. Time is error.” The sense, I think, was that all pure moments bleed into each other, are, in a sense, the same moment. It was a good thought for Christmastime.