I made the tragicomic mistake of quantifying my commuting life this week. I measured how much time I have spent commuting from farm to work in my fifteen years as a University instructor. Just as farmers should never attempt to figure out how much per hour they earn, so too with commuters. Such honesty piles regret on loss. Not good. So I linger here with my cautionary tale anyway–a picture and a poem
There it is
that pause that gap that defining absence.
That gaze across time and distance
before we even blink
much less think.