looking back, through the time machine, the lens of memories, youthful indiscretions, the folly of the young, through the lens of age and supposed wisdom? or just a focal length of worry? driving through deserted country roads late at night, lights off, lit only by the moonlight, skies so clear, it's almost day, how lucky that was, that no one had decided to go for a walk on the streets, as I had also done, late at night. Even older, wandering around the neighborhood, going to the grocery store at 3am, because it's open, it's 24 hours, and we all know how I like unlimited things, and off hours, is this age, or is it parenthood, that changes the viewpoint, where the aperture is nice and tight, and everything comes into focus, near and far, now and later, here and there, and awareness blossoms, blooms, yet colors fade, the shadows darken, with more knowledge, more unknown.