Time's passage

We just see time passing in front us, in the movement of a second hand around a clock, or the falling of sand through an hourglass, or indeed any motion or change at all.

We are indirectly aware of the passage of time when we reflect on our memories, which present the world as it was, and so a contrast with how things are now. But much more immediate than this is seeing the second hand move around the clock, or hearing a succession of notes in a piece of music, or feeling a raindrop run down your neck. There is nothing inferential, it seems, about the perception of change and motion: it is simply given in experience. (Robin Le Poidevin, The Images of Time: An Essay on Temporal Representation (Oxford 2007), 76, 87.

I demure. Strictly speaking, we don't observe change. We see and hear things in the present. We remember the position of the second hand. We remember where it used to be. We remember that the clock struck four times. The apprehension of time's passage is a combination of sensory perception and recollection. We perceive moments as they happen. We don't directly perceive change. That's a necessary but insufficient ingredient.