Apprehending Change

Small shifts in uniform gradations like the steady background beat of a warning drum. Relentless and imperceptible, the entire horizon unfolds in a disturbingly miraculous way, reorienting everything within its sweep.
A few sit on the ground, arms crossed, backs to the rising sun, eyes squeezed shut in scandalized rejection of any landscapes not illlustrated in the manual. They form a formidable barrier blocking my way forward until I realize that, like it or not, they are part of the landscape as well.
This is a miracle I cannot apprehend.