Time Flies
70 x 100 cm. (27.6" x 39.4")
Available · inquire for pricing · email: robert@nitiredjo.com
The Common Cuckoo is a bird that is often heard, but rarely seen. Few birds have a more recognizable call than the iconic "cuck-oo" sound, which echoes through forests and woodlands each spring and summer. We even built clocks around its call, making the cuckoo a symbol of time itself.
That connection inspired the title of this painting. Time Flies is a phrase we all know. One moment we're young, and before we know it another decade has passed.
I was reminded of that the other day while making a payment for my funeral insurance. Not exactly the sort of bill that brightens your morning. It struck me that I'll be turning fifty this year.
There was a time when thoughts like that would have unsettled me. They felt like reminders that the clock was always ticking. Thankfully, that has changed now. The older I get, the more I notice that life isn’t asking us to hold on to time. It’s asking us to be present for it.
When someone we love dies, we're often reminded to live every moment to the fullest, because life is short. There is wisdom in that, but I don't think it's about trying to squeeze as much as possible into the time we have. I've come to believe it's more about meeting each moment fully. That is where lasting joy, resilience and a deep connection to life are found.
The Common Cuckoo is a beautiful bird with a striking appearance that closely mimics a bird of prey. Beyond their looks and their distinctive "cuck-oo" call, they are famous for a very unusual breeding strategy. Instead of building its own nest, the female lays her eggs in the nests of other birds, leaving them to raise her young. This behaviour is called brood parasitism. It may seem unusual from our perspective, but it's an effective, energy-saving strategy that significantly boosts her reproductive success.
The painting shows a cuckoo flying over a piece of deadwood. If you look closely, you can see a quiet reminder of a bird that has already completed its journey.
At first glance, the scene is about life and death. But maybe nature is teaching us about the cycle of life, about renewal and regeneration. Deadwood is never truly dead. It becomes home to mosses, insects and fungi. Slowly it returns to the earth, where it nourishes new life. What looks like an ending is actually a new beginning.
Everything in life constantly changes. Objects and bodies decay, but perhaps our deepest essence is untouched by these changes.
Much of our suffering comes from clinging to the idea of who we are. From the moment we’re born, we're building an identity from our achievements, our possessions, our memories and our plans. Yet all of these are temporary. Sooner or later, they fall away.
Long before the body dies, we can allow that false sense of self to die. And what remains is something surprisingly peaceful. Not a person with a story to defend, but the simple awareness that has quietly been here all along.
When we're completely present, something else becomes apparent. Time itself begins to lose its grip. There is no rushing toward tomorrow or longing for yesterday. There is only this moment. And somehow that's enough.
The cuckoo continues its flight. Beneath it, the deadwood slowly returns to the earth. Seasons come and go, forms appear and disappear. What remains is the stillness that has always been here.
"Time flies and life changes. Beneath it all, stillness remains."
