Time. Oh sweet time.

I'm perched on the couch in Myrtle Beach. The puppy is laying on my lap. The news on the tv is just small chatter compared to the snores of Norm.  During times like this, time stands still. 

As you get older time gets more precious. It becomes a dozen of eggs, a glass vase, a framed picture. You must be gentle with it. You must protect it. It is soft. It is fragile.   It is an irreplaceable heirloom. 

Over the past year I've realized the sanctity of time. Who to waste it on. Who to let go of when time becomes just an object, a knick knack. Just another thing to use.  Figuring out the balance of that was not easy. But I find myself everyday learning a little more about time. Recognizing when to stop and listen. When to stop and watch the pink in the sky, and it sure is bright.