Wissahickon

There was a point on our hike that struck me, where we crossed a bridge and climbed up a hill and looked out at tbe view of where we had just stood on the bridge. So much of life feels like that; so often you get used to one perspective, only to then discover the fleetingness of any one 'phase' in life, and promply move on, only able look back at where you were, but never again experience its perspective. Makes me think of Joni Mitchell...

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game