The sun blazing down on this our fragile humanity enticing us to the cooling waters of the sea or the breezy shade of mountain trees.

It is time for ball games on beaches, hide and seek on mountain slopes: laughter, friendship, care-freeness.  It is time for distraction, the distraction that once saturated must eventually lead to reflection.

It is when the mind is no longer lumbered with the quotidian struggle for existence that it is induced to reflection.  Then aghast, stunned, for the voraciousness of emptiness is vast; nullified we ask, “On what shall I reflect?”

We whiz past this world in a whirlwind, or if inactive, wearisome boredom.  If in full activity, we have no time, if bored, we have no inclination- either way, we don’t reflect and at best remain a clanging gong or a sounding symbol, devoid of significance and meaning.

So let us pick up an old black and white photo to recall a shadow of what we have been; read that musty note left under the pillow for Santa to restore a sense of magic, dust away the covers of a mouldy book, listen to the crackle of an old disk to see if per chance faded memories re-flower…

What we were has made us what we are, that is the power of the passing of time.  That is why we need reflection because it is inherent, in it we find the basis of our being and only from such can we give birth to new blooms in yet another Spring.