Time travel

by chuckofish

For a change of pace and because I have nothing else to say, let’s imagine that time travel is possible. There are no language barriers and we don’t have to worry about being seen or disrupting the space-time continuum. The only rules are that you can’t go back to relive any part of your own life, and you can’t choose to witness big events — no vital biblical scenes (e.g. the last supper), no conquest of Everest, major battles or great scientific discoveries. The time machine will send you to some random day in the year and place you choose. Here are my picks represented via paintings, one for each season.

I’d definitely pay a spring visit to the ancient Near East c. 710 BC. I’d probably choose Nineveh rather than Jerusalem, but I liked this 19th century British watercolor better than the alternatives I found, so I settled for the latter.

Since I would definitely avoid the Near East in summer, I think I’ll choose Port Clyde, Maine c. 1925, as envisioned by N.C. Wyeth. I could spend the better part of the day scrambling along the rocks and then head home to drink tea, read, chat (assuming I had company) and play board games. I’d fall asleep to the sound of the ocean.

I can imagine a rainy autumn afternoon in Vermont, c. 1850. (Modern painting by Albert Gruppe.) After I have finished my daily chores, I might take a walk to visit a friend or just get some fresh air.

As for winter, you can drop me into the Netherlands in c. 1610 as represented by Pieter Brueghel the younger. I have no connection to the place other than liking the painting, but why not try something new?

I could go on and on, but I’ll stop here. The exercise has reinforced my growing tendency to withdraw from the world to simpler, if not better, times. I miss knowing where I stand and how I fit in. Everything is so topsy-turvy right now that I’m having a hard time keeping track of the new orthodoxies, which seem so determined to correct bad habits and redress wrongs that they are destined to throw the baby out with the bathwater (if I may use an old cliché without offending anyone). Excuse me while I go fiddle with my time machine…

And have a great weekend!