All in life is transitory, except ....

The "work station" changes, grows, expands, at times becomes smaller. The television and the printer now also are in place. More books are present. Actually, a third pistol as arrived on the scene, but it is hidden from view. It could be interesting to consider the various and varied work stations each of us has experienced in our lives. At times, my work station has included a typewriter rather than a computer, a rifle, a camera, a notepad and pen, a car, a blackboard, a lectern, and on and on and on. Think about your own work stations for a moment, both personal and professional, both past and present.

I looked out this morning ....

Here is a lesson for you. Or, a thought, if you resent the implication that I might possibility be telling you what to do. Or, an idea, if you like to examine the ideas of other people and compare them to your own.

Everything in life is transitory. And, it does not necessarily change by minutes or centuries or millennium. It changes in nanoseconds, or even in some smaller unit, if there is some such thing. Being "unscientific" in nature, such means of measurement are a mystery to me.

Look at the photograph. I have been in the Lake House for two weeks, and it took this long to build my “work station.” In about five weeks, most everything in the house that is me and mine will be gone except for these tables and the items on them. In about six weeks, all of this will be gone, too -- gone from this place forever. Other than a photograph, there will be no indication any of this existed. No one or nothing, other than the Lake House itself, will ever be able to factually demonstrate that I passed this way.

And, even as the work station exists in real time, it changes. The computer screens change. The television screen and the Blackberry screen change. There is no respite from change, from time, from ourselves. Dust gathers at some places. A sheet of paper vanishes. See how different the setting is in today's photograph from the photo taken only two days ago. I will wake up one morning, and this scene will have ceased to exist. Or, maybe, I will have ceased to exist.

All in life is transitory, I think, except, maybe, there is one thing that never does change for some very few people. Maybe, the look in the eyes of another is the same for as long as time exists. Maybe, but I doubt it.

.... and the sun was gone ....

It happened again to me yesterday. I jumped into the Suburban, turned on the radio, and Boston came blasting out at me.

It is fate, destiny. Someone or something is trying to send me a message. I am being followed by the music of Boston wherever I go, whenever I turn on a radio. This time the song was, "More Than a Feeling."

So many people have come and gone
Their faces fade as the years go by
Yet I still recall as I wander on
As clear as the sun in the summer sky

When I’m tired and thinking cold
I hide in my music, forget the day
And dream of a girl I used to know
I closed my eyes and she slipped away
She slipped away

I wonder if the words are prophetic. For me, that is to say. Somehow, I do not think so. I never have climbed Mount Everest (although my camera has), but it seems to me any of us can attain seemingly unattainable heights in our lives if we really want to do it and are willing to pay the price.

With that in mind, rock on, Boston, until all the lights have gone out and the concert hall is empty ....