This morning, as I watched the leaves fall in my backyard, I was hit with a familiar feeling—the quiet passing of time. It’s funny how the changing of the seasons always brings that reminder, as if nature is nudging us to pause and take stock. Just this week, my son casually mentioned how time is starting to fly by for him. At his age, I didn’t even think about time like that. It wasn’t until I was around 25 that I started to feel time slipping through my fingers, like those leaves floating to the ground.
The conversation with my son left me reflecting on where the time has gone. When did the days start turning into weeks and months in the blink of an eye? Back then, I was busy in California, living out a decade under the sun, with endless summers and barely any leaves to remind me of the seasons. The song California Dreamin’ has been playing in the back of my mind ever since. That state holds so many memories—somewhere between adventure, growth, and the simplicity of youth that didn’t seem to notice the clock ticking.
And then, as if the nostalgia couldn’t stop itself, my thoughts turned to the Yankees losing Game 1 of the World Series last night. Sigh. It feels like another marker of time—another season that ends without a win. Maybe we can’t win it all, but that doesn’t stop us from hoping each year, does it?
As I sit here watching the leaves fall, I realize that life moves in seasons, too. We don’t win every game, we don’t capture every moment, but we do keep going. Time passes, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, but the moments we hold onto—the memories of California, the excitement of a new baseball season, or even the small comments our children make—those are what keep us grounded as the seasons change.
Maybe that’s the real gift of this season, as the leaves fall, reminding us not only of time passing but also of the beauty in each moment as it does.
Categories: current events, mental health, Psychology, The Seasons





A Most Wonderful Part of Being Young Dear Miriam Is We Only Have Now
A Most Wonderful Part of Being Old Dear Miriam is We Only Have Now
Yet Of Course As the ‘Alan Parson’s Project’ Sings ‘Days Are Numbers’
A Memory for me at age 23 Finishing up 3 Degrees at Once
Working my 3 Part time Jobs at Once then Perhaps 2 or 3
Hours of Sleep at Night ‘Burning the Candle’ Hehe at
Both Ends as they Still Say Today Anyway a Young
Woman at age 25 Literally asked me if i Was
‘Superman’ Able to Do that all at once
Yet She Didn’t See me at age 21
Breaking Down Rising Up
And Breaking Down
Again Starting
All over Again From
Scratch Doing More Than
Ever Before As She Went on to
Lament in the Sociology of Aging
Class at the Master’s Degree Level
to Get a Master’s of Social Sciences
Interdisciplinary as the Program went Kaput
And so did
my Reserves
of Funds too
Anyway She Lamented
She Never Had Her ‘Frankie
Avalon Party Days at the Beach Bars’
In Other Words Yes She Felt Time Passing bye
Feeling Time Had Passed Her bye Yet of Course
Time is an Illusion It’s Always Up to Us to Make the
Best of the Eternal Now i Didn’t Really Start my ‘Frankie
Avalon Days’ Until 53 And Still Have Thousands of Photos
To Prove
It’s Still
Happening
For Real Now at 64
even literally stronger
than ever before as empirical
measurements of warming Up
12 Reps Leg Pressing 1540 Pounds
at the Military Gym Does Literally Prove
For It’s True That Second Fall Past Age
21 at Age 47 For the 66 Months of that Dead Zone
Taught a Most Valuable Lesson
oF ALL When You Lose the
memory of the feeling
of ever experiencing
the feeling of a smile
ever as memories are
emotions and emotions
are memories there is no escaping
Hell ALL time where a thousand years
is one second of Hell within for real
True Literally Worse Than the Assessed
Worst Pain known to Humankind that Type
Two Trigeminal Neuralgia No Drug Would Touch
Yes Wake to Sleep all 66 Months of the Suicide Disease For Real
The Lesson
Still Is if i can
Feel a Smile
i Have Everything
i Could Ever Dream of
In Hell to Give Away in Heaven Now
Indeed Life is a Metaphor For Now and
Only as Deep as We Color Now More Beautiful to Be
Most
Important
To Give It All
Away For Free
Where my Name is
No Longer Important at all…
Other Wise Time And Other
Labels May Be Dangerous Illusions
We Create…
Basically
Suffocating
The Potential of Now..:)
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I think in one lifetime we live many lives Mimi. I often think if a Time Machine took me back to my twenties I would struggle to recognise myself, time and life’s events mould and change us slowly, hopefully into better people as we grow older and wiser.
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