The Moving Finger Writes

Very busy these days. Lots to do as far as site selection and attracting future investors.

On top of it all, I was called to jury duty today. I reported at 9:30am to the local courthouse. I was not selected as a juror, but was part of a large pool of candidate jurors – they used the term “jury panel” – from which the eventual 12 jurors and two alternates were selected.

For reasons that I shall not get into, I was excused from the jury panel. While I definitely believe in civic duty, I must admit that I was happy to get back to work.

As I sat there, in the court room, I also thought about the case about to be tried. At that point, I had no idea what the case was, who the defendant was, or any other related knowledge. But, clearly someone had felt they were wronged, or the Crown thought someone was wronged, or a crime was committed, and someone sat accused. A lot of pain. A lot of hardship. A very unfortunate situation that no doubt began many months or years prior.

I was reminded of one of my favourite pieces of poetry:

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
-The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam - Edward Fitzgerald - 11th century