Hawks fascinate me. There’s something about seeing them floating on the air currents with little or no effort on their parts that causes me to feel a bit of longing for something unnamed. Somehow it seems so mysterious to me because I know little of the science that explains how the birds glide so effortlessly; maybe it’s the freedom it symbolizes. I don’t know, but every time I see one I am enthralled.
Yesterday Mr. Fixit and I were driving along the highway when a hawk floated by. It brought to mind a line from “Jeremiah Johnson.” Johnson and Caleb are clearing land when a hawk lazily riding the air currents glides past. Jeremiah says, “Hawk--going for the Mussel Shoal. Take me a week’s riding, and he’ll be there in . . .hell, he’s there already.” I couldn’t remember the quote verbatim. I couldn’t remember if he said, “. . .he’ll be there in an hour” or some other quantified length of time. (I had to look for the quote.)
My mind then wandered to the subject of time. How could a person living without time-keeping devices such as Johnson or people living in older times manage without clocks. How did they keep appointments? For instance, if a person said, “I’ll be in town tomorrow at 9:00 am” how did he know it was 9:00 am and not 9:30 am? Perhaps making appointments was an urban phenomenon, clocks being available for the public or perhaps the rural folks who didn’t have time pieces made general appointments. “I’ll be there mid-morning.”
If so, were mornings divided into accepted increments? Early morning could mean between sunup and 8:00 am; midmorning could have been from 8:00 am to 10:00 am; late morning could have been 10:00 am to noon. That would work during the summers. In winter the sun rises later and sets earlier--that would throw a wrench into the works.
This whole stream of consciousness kept my mind occupied for the rest of the 20 minute drive. My final conclusions were that I feel pangs of envy for hawks for some reason, it would neat for clocks to become unnecessary, and sometimes after one of these little flights of imagination, I realize how weird I am.
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It took me a year after I retired to take my watch off. While I was a letter carrier staying on time was important and it was hard to break the habit. When my brother-in-law and his wife first moved back here from California we would suggest that we all meet for breakfast. They would show up at our house after 10am. We told them breakfast is 8 or 9, it' almost time for lunch. So the sense of time is also cultural.
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