It sounds simple enough, as so many proverbs and aphorisms do - but how long is a moment? It depends who you ask, of course - ask someone to do something for you when they are immersed in the television of a video game, and the reply will often be "in a moment"
Ask me while I am writing, or deep in a good book, and a moment could turn out to be quite a while - why do some moments seem so brief, and some, so long?
A quantum physicist would probably take so long to explain to you why the question could not be accurately or definitively answered that you might come to wish that the moment in which you asked the question had been put to better use.
The gardener in me knows that moments are linked and can extend across seasons. This morning, between other chores, came a moment when I could sow some seeds - beans, corn, squash, and zucchini - in a vacant bed.
Sowing or planting moments are always moments of optimism
That moment will come to fruition in late January or early February.
These plants are the result of a moment almost a month ago
The cherries I picked a couple of days ago were the long-term result of an accumulation of moments - some going back five or ten years - as are the apples that are swelling upon their trees, though I have also to thank the bees for the brief moments they spent at each flower - as does each person who ladles honey into their tea, or onto their toast.
The final word on moments could go to Kipling, who said in the final stanza of his poem "If"
"If you can fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds worth of distance run
The Earth is yours, and everything that's in it........"
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