Edited by Jim McCrory, Thursday 28 August 2025 at 11:22
“No matter how far we travel, the memories will follow in the baggage car.” —August Strindberg
“No matter how far we travel, the memories will follow in the baggage car.” —August Strindberg
The One Place Time Stands Still
Once upon a time, time itself began—at the moment of the Big Bang. Don’t puzzle over that too much; that’s the work of theoretical physicists.
When Genesis declares, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth,” time is not only set in motion—it keeps moving forward. Even here, as you read one word after another, the moment you’ve just touched is gone forever. You have a better chance of finding porchetta at a Bar Mitzvah than reversing the clock.
And yet, time does not entirely escape us. The mind refuses to let it stand still. Ask the capital of Scotland and the answer comes quick—Edinburgh. But ask about the last meal you shared with family or friends, and a film begins to roll in your head. A scene is replayed. A moment is captured.
My Captured Moment
I grew up in Govan, Glasgow. My friends and I would take the ferry across the River Clyde and wander until we reached the Dowanhill district, where Avril Paton would one day set her beloved painting Windows in the West.
I remember staring into those houses, envious of the warmth that seemed to spill out of them—families gathered, people reading in soft chairs with cats curled on their laps, children leaning over board games at the table.
Years later, I felt the same quiet ache when I looked upon a winter scene in a Stockholm suburb. Something in both moments drew me back to that fairy-tale vision of childhood: logs crackling on the fire, family gathered, the simple comfort of reading and talking together.
It is a reel of memory still playing in my mind. Only dementia could steal it from Image by Copilot
The One Place Time Stands Still
“No matter how far we travel, the memories will follow in the baggage car.”
—August Strindberg
“No matter how far we travel, the memories will follow in the baggage car.”
—August Strindberg
The One Place Time Stands Still
Once upon a time, time itself began—at the moment of the Big Bang. Don’t puzzle over that too much; that’s the work of theoretical physicists.
When Genesis declares, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth,” time is not only set in motion—it keeps moving forward. Even here, as you read one word after another, the moment you’ve just touched is gone forever. You have a better chance of finding porchetta at a Bar Mitzvah than reversing the clock.
And yet, time does not entirely escape us. The mind refuses to let it stand still. Ask the capital of Scotland and the answer comes quick—Edinburgh. But ask about the last meal you shared with family or friends, and a film begins to roll in your head. A scene is replayed. A moment is captured.
My Captured Moment
I grew up in Govan, Glasgow. My friends and I would take the ferry across the River Clyde and wander until we reached the Dowanhill district, where Avril Paton would one day set her beloved painting Windows in the West.
Windows in the West – Avril Paton
I remember staring into those houses, envious of the warmth that seemed to spill out of them—families gathered, people reading in soft chairs with cats curled on their laps, children leaning over board games at the table.
Years later, I felt the same quiet ache when I looked upon a winter scene in a Stockholm suburb. Something in both moments drew me back to that fairy-tale vision of childhood: logs crackling on the fire, family gathered, the simple comfort of reading and talking together.
It is a reel of memory still playing in my mind. Only dementia could steal it from Image by Copilot