That Thing Called Time — Byron Hoot Time and circumstance deserve no conjunction yoking together two elements unequal in girth. Time is cordially disrespectful of all else as without its context nothing exists. Our concepts of it brings a wry smile to its face. Nothing is so wide and deep, so long and short as it is. Some call it grace, the fullness thereof, miraculous, divine, experienced beyond the realm of words: time never yoked equally to anything, anyone, any place, any time.
