A child – under age six, at a guess, watching volleyball live at the gym. She has a ball of her own, one of the nerf types that’s a little smaller than a real volleyball, and a dad on the treadmill, and wide blue shining eyes that are all perceptions. She watches the players intently, and you can tell when she sees it: the one she wants to do too. You can tell by the glance at the ball, then at the players, then back at the ball, to try to get her hands just right – like theirs; then another glance to the players – then back… then the grin as she sends the ball aloft.
The ball doesn’t come straight down, it drops a little to one side, careening off the rowing machine as she scrambles after it, with a squeal or two of delight. Now, with ball now firmly back in hand, she watches for the one she wants to do too – watching carefully so she can get it just right…

There are moments that reaffirm the natural order of things, measured moments, that remind us that it will endure and in the end outlast us all.