Time has been my obsession lately. It's the incredible realization that we are part of an immense timeline that stretches over days, months, years, decades, and centuries that has been keeping my mind busy. Walking through Bamberg the other morning, I discovered hotels (like the one above whose parking garage dates back to 1855), mills, cafes, and public buildings with dates that stopped me in my tracks.

Usually, we take moments out of time; we memorize dates and use them to chronicle life's events. These "misplaced" dates always put a bad taste in my mouth; they exude a halting sense of finality. I never really saw time's line in its entirity; I never really thought about the fact that someone, like you or me, stood in front of this pharmacy, bakery, brewery, or house in 1437, 1396, 1678, or 1911, wondering what life would be like a hundred years later, wondering what the world would be like and who would be living in it. Now, here I am, one hundred, five hundred, six hundred plus years later, standing in front of these places, wondering the same thing, wondering who lived here or stood there, wondering what these places will be like in 2110, 2510, 3010. This awareness has eased my mind, eased this sense of finality that has been taunting me. It's made me feel connected and continuinous. It made me happy...