There is a certain impulse to purify time by stripping it of content, also an opposing impulse to glory in the impurities of a populated time. One could, if one wished, elaborate quite a nice dialectic out of these conflicting impulses.

These days, though, I've been thinking along quite different lines, of reducing time to a content, as one might reduce a sauce, until it coats the back of a spoon in a satisfying manner.

Ah!- delectable essence of time, a teaspoonful of all the pretty pictures.