When The Mud Settles

So, the days pass and we can expect nothing different. Out here, all the days do is pass, one after the other; until one day you look up and years have slipped by without anyone noticing.

Of course, back in those days it seemed so hard to make sense of anything. That was when I was young and I hadn’t realised that nothing ever does really make any sense. You – as you grow older and, maybe, wiser – just learn to live a bit easier with the confusion.

Sometimes, it seems as though it is about to make sense in some way, and then it slips out of your hand and is gone. It’s like trying to catch a small fish in a stream with your bare hands. You think you have it, then there is a sort of muscular hard twitch between your fingers and you feel it slip away. Then it is gone, lost in the eddying mud your urgent grabbing has boiled up.

When the mud finally settles, the fish is long gone. The water is clear again, but you know that is just a cover for the many secrets the mud still hides.