I sat this morning among a stand of foxglove. Observing the parade of hummingbird and bee. A kind of parade I sense would bore most. Too many breaks in the action.
The frenetic pace that has shaped the post modern mind, now leaves people troubled when the activity is fractured. The void feels like terror and a waste. The terror and waste is not the void. There is no void in the natural rhythm. It's an illusion created by the fractured mind that has fallen completely out of rhythm. A mind that cannot rest.