It was a good year

Imperial DC. Both pics are of the building in which the EPA is headquartered, 12th Street just south of Pennsylvania NW.

The last bit of twenty-eleven is swirling and spiraling, heading straight for the gutter. I think I hear a sucking sound like the one you hear when draining the bathwater out of the tub. It's the sound at the very end. Slurp!

I'm waiting for the spiral to reverse itself; that's my signal that the year is done. The shift in the flow of the year comes (to my mind) sometime on the 30th, usually late at night. Seems to take twenty-four hours plus for the last drops to drain away, swept out of the ocean of linear time by reversing spin at the last minute. Time speeds up at the end of the year.

Oh yeah. Have I mentioned that time/space is something I find palpable in my own slightly quirky way? I perceive it as an ocean in which we live and move, the place we park our bodies and beings during this life as a human. Perhaps it's arbitrary that at midnight on December 31, our secular year ends, but our minds make that moment real. Our thoughts have impact, especially when a bunch of us are thinking the same thing. It affects time/space. It does.

Navigating the ever shifting currents of the time/space ocean is a challenge every one of us faces while alive. By the way I'm not the first person to see it this way, though perhaps the language I use to describe what I sense is unique. Maybe not.

This last bit of twenty-eleven feels thick, rather slow. The non week between Christmas and New Year's Day, this year, seems to stretch out in both directions as it rolls inexoribly towards the finish.

At least it feels that way to me. Slog on, people. It'll all be over soon.