Or does it? Yes... ….it does….  ...and no, it doesn’t. From a human perspective, time definitely marches on. Every moment counts. One must maximize, super-size, and prioritize one's life. The gaining of experience is what ultimately matters in life and when it comes to experience accruing, let’s gobble up as much of the good stuff as possible while avoiding at all costs the bad because can’t you just hear that damn clock ticking? It’s there, we’re very aware of it, and that’s why we all hit the ground running.

Looking around the airport in which I spend soooo much time the passage of time has almost a desperate quality around it. Wasting not a second, the passengers, most of them, are on the move. No military operation moves faster or more efficiently than a family hup-hupping it to wherever it is they are going, no just-retired couple is filled with more goal-achieving satisfaction that the duo deftly wending their way through baggage claim, traveling light and traveling a lot, this stop only one of many that are planned, while the singles threading their way through have their own destinies to fulfill, those being meeting the family (again), the lover waiting for them in a curbside car, or a friend or friends with which they will have some sort of adventure. 

You can almost hear choirs of angels singing "Precious moments are at hand!" when meet-ups happen. It is so poignant, amazing, and yet at the same time sobering to witness this, over and over. The wide-armed greetings, squeals of joy, wraparound hugs, big smiles, firm handshakes, and the lover's embrace that lingers and puts off heat oh my God get a room already.

On the flip side of all this are the various scenarios where the passage of time weighs like an anchor on hearts and minds. Take a look at any employee who is putting on a brave face but would rather be anywhere else. Gaze at the wheelchair passengers who somebody is going to pick up but that somebody is not in any hurry to get there. Glance at the ones who aren't that good looking and don't have lovers waiting for them and are just making their way through the mob to their home or hotel. Observe the surly traveling worker bees with their little carry-ons, toolboxes on wheels, or demo gear who only want to get home and are emitting the vibe “Don't bother me and don't delay my progress un momento!”

  To keep the throng appraised of where they stand, every half hour a time announcement comes over the airport's intercom while little kids play and some of the passengers squirm, tap toes, and people watch inside the terminal. The others sit staring at their phones, packing more data in. This data is to some degree knowledge, to the other useless trivia, which accumulates and is stored ‘somewhere’. The data absorbers are trying to fill up a gargantuan and seemingly insatiable computer hard drive called Mind, which they individually call my mind, which can't be located anywhere inside or outside of their bodies. Maybe it exists in 'The Cloud'.

Meanwhile, outside of the airport windows, there are other clouds and movement is occurring. The tide is rising, the sun is slowly arcing across the sky, and the brooding mountains nearby are experiencing rain. This scene seems to be taking place within the same context of human time but if you really think about what is happening out there, it’s timeless.
Ten thousand years could pass, geologically, the present-day humans long gone, the airport a crumbling relic, and the natural surroundings would most likely have only imperceptibly changed. 

For outside of the human experience there are no clocks or calendars. There is no such thing as 'day', 'night', 'weekend', 'decade', or 'history'. There are no labels for anything because there is no one measuring, calculating, or comparing anything. There is no ‘evolving’ and no ‘purpose for being’.

Which may be something to think about the next time you're sitting in an airport lounge, patiently (or impatiently) waiting for your flight. Look out those big windows, past the busy runway and the planes taxing into position, at the distant horizon where you can see some nature. There, outside of the human drama, the grand and passionate 'telenovela’ we’re all soooo wrapped up in, everything just is.