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Time is like a river most float downstrean, but a few of us found an oar, and head back up stream.
Time is like a river, and people flow along it from one part to another barely noticing that they are moving at all, until they look up at the sides and suddenly see how far they’ve come. Sometimes the river moves fast, and sometimes slow, depending on which part of the current you’re in. Sometimes you get drawn into a current and move at a dizzying rate; sometimes you get stuck in the sand and barely move at all. Sometimes you find yourself veering off the river into tributaries, and from tributaries into whirlpools. Once you drift out of the river of time, there’s no knowing where you might end up, or what you might do, or who you might see.
I am trying to get back into the swing of things, but it is hard to get used to the overwhelming difference everything carries lately.
I don't know who Merla is ... or who her father was. This is an inscription in a late-1890s book I bought at a church yard sale during a visit to Petrolia, Ontario.. The "Oldest Object I Can Find" in my house are books!! This set of books cost me $1 for 5. A great deal I think - all 5 are late-19th century Protestant-Christian social reform novels. A wonderful find for a historian!