It’s a clock that takes a whole year to go around. One hand. One slow revolution.
 
I found it on Kickstarter and waited nearly three years for it to arrive. Those years had been hard ones, and somewhere along the way, the clock became a quiet symbol of hope: that time keeps moving, that things unfold.
 
Eighty-nine days after it arrived, it fell off the wall and broke. I was crushed. I reached out to the creator thinking it was a long shot. He replaced the whole thing, generously and without hesitation.
 
Now it sits on my windowsill. I catch myself glancing at it constantly, noticing which color the hand is in. Right now,
I’m watching it inch toward green. Toward spring.
 
It doesn’t tell me what time it is. It tells me where I am.
 
They’re still available, though pricier now. But the creator has shifted toward Public Placements, putting them in libraries, hospitals, waiting rooms. Maybe someday you’ll notice a circular rainbow on a wall somewhere. And maybe you’ll pause.