Today is the last day of February. I'm scrolling through memories.
iPhones have a feature where you can look at photos from a certain date. There is also a "one year ago feature". Last night, I picked it.
There was nothing for the 28th. The photos for February 27 were photos of snow in downtown Binghamton, where I worked.
A year ago, we had no idea whatsoever of what was coming to our country. I don't want to dwell on it, but I can't help it.
The photos on my phone are a historical record of sorts. When I scroll through the photos of March, 2020, they start so innocently. Flowers. A special type of onion I'll be blogging about again called the strawberry onion. The first spring flowers, seen on March 5 (that won't happen this year, I'm sure). More flowers. An everyday scene for me, the garden area of the Broome County Public Library.
And then...well, we all know what.
I also decided to clear out some old emails today.
I have too many mailing lists. I deleted about 200 emails worth of newsletters that will never be read.
It's a type of electronic history, and I do enjoy history.
Too much clutter. Not enough time.
I have a feeling I'm not alone in this.
So, will I stop taking photos? No. Will I unsubscribe to those newsletters?
Maybe. Or maybe I should just carve out a chunk of time and read some of my emails. Because email is a type of history, too.
I wonder how much of our history will remain if the Internet fails, or if we all just delete our photos and emails.
In a way, it's a scary thought.
But virtual clutter does weigh us down in a way that physical clutter doesn't. Maybe it doesn't take up space in our physical lives, but it does weigh down our mind.
Do you have this problem?