Life is about rhythms.


Circadian, musical, the beating of our hearts, the buzz of wings, the revolutions of piston heads.


All moving. All set in rhythm.


Sometimes we move out of synch with our rhythms, pushing ahead too far, too fast. Having to pause to allow the rhythm to catch up.


The rhythm can become unnoticed


Fading into the background, masked by noise, masked by the business of life.


Returning to a place which is still, and always remains still. Where the rhythm has been steady for so long, I found the incessant ticking of the clocks a relentless march towards a time in habited only by the ticking and tocking and the endless rhythms of those things which we made, but no longer serve a master. The time when friends and family go. Sometimes the rhythm of life pulsates, other times it seems heartless and unstoppable.


Standing proudly and merrily upon the twilight hills, arms swinging with carefree abandon, windmills work hard without respite, turning, turning, turning, with the sighs of the wind.


Is this the rhythm of the future? Are they just a modern way of listening into nature’s interminable clock?


As the human race reaches midnight, tomorrow will resonate only to the sound of time’s empty march.