La persistencia de la memoria

We had to futz with our various clocks this morning as it is the first day of what we like to call the "drab period" of the year, when the sun sets before the day is over and those of us who wake up a dawn are actually robbed of sleep.

The Dali painting sprung to mind for some reason, although it has nothing to do with clocks (as first glimpse might suggest) and daylight savings (thanks Mr. Franklin) but I suspect that it had something to do with thinking back and how bad our memories become; how fragmented actually.  It has a lot to do with light, morning sunlight particularly, and not so much how it shines in the kitchen window but when it does. For a few days it will seem out of whack and that one visual clue to times past is all crazy for a few until we get used to it and it gets familiar.  Coffee will be brewed in light rather than stumbling in the dark - that sort of thing.

It is cold as well and unlike the spring forward 6 months away, that certain edge in the air and on the floor, more steam from the coffee perhaps that sunlight catches now at odd angles.  Well, I'm all discombobulated.

My dad passed about a dozen years ago about now. Until he learned to sleep in he was always up and out in these early mornings, coffee in hand, enjoying the sunlight in the pines on his property.  I don't remember him in any continuous time flow, just bits and pieces; holes in Swiss cheese.  Its probably distorted a bit, those memories, bent out of shape by the effects of time as distance.  We are equally as far from November of 2000 in mind-miles as we are in time passed.

That is why I thought of the Dali painting.