Adam Frank reflects on how our time is "sliced up into ever-finer increments and with ever-higher expectations for how much we can produce in a given bundle of minutes or hours":
Born of the natural world, evolved across hundreds of thousands of generations in field and forest, rock and water's edge, we have within us another understanding of time.
There is always that morning in late summer when you step outside and you can smell autumn. It's just a hint of a change, a certain kind of coolness and the color of the light, but you know it as soon as it hits. Some half a year later, the same recognition will hit again when the first scent of warm soil and growth tells you your standing at the undefined cusp of late winter and early spring. These days can't be set down on a calendar a year in advance. They can't be planned for. Their appearance is a testament to the fact that we are more than rational, calculating machines lifted miraculously above the natural world. Instead, we are forever woven into the fabric of that world.
(Video: Updated version of Noah Kalina's life one day at a time, now more than twelve years uploaded)
The Dish 