“And the time sundials tell May be minutes and hours. But it may just as well Be seconds and sparkles, or seasons and flowers. No, I don't think of time as just minutes and hours. Time can be heartbeats, or bird songs, or miles, Or waves on a beach, or ants in their files (They do move like seconds—just watch their feet go: Tick-tick-tick, like a clock). You'll learn as you grow That whatever there is in a garden, the sun Counts up on its dial. By the time it is done Our sundial—or someone's— will certainly add All the good things there are. Yes, and all of the bad. And if anyone's here for the finish, the sun Will have told him—by sundial—how well we have done. How well we have done, or how badly. Alas, That is a long thought. Let me hope we all pass.” TimeSundialsSundial Book:The Monster Den: or Look What Happened at My House — and to It Source: The Monster Den: or Look What Happened at My House — and to It
“There was wonder in that insubstantial pointer; it gave me news that no clockwork could do. Time was not a fixed series of moments, it said, but something moving like a flower that grows, growing perhaps even like a flower; or traveling the minutes like the spokes of a shadowy wheel turning once a day, and perhaps going somewhere or somewhen, carrying me along with it” TimeSundial Book:A Countryman's Spring Notebook Source: A Countryman's Spring Notebook