Things happen, the day grows older, measured in moments and the mundane minutiae of right now; there are tasks, events, drama, weddings, the accumulation of responsibilities and obligations, all of these pile up on top of each other and account for the passage of time.
And then sometimes, sometimes, a child wanders in, oblivious, magical, barely held down by gravity to this earth, in a complete pre-Copernican world, the sun revolving around them and only them, strewing charm, wonder, and flower petals in their wake.