My thoughts move into the Autumn of life, sitting at a window watching the world move here and there, always moving, like the moments of life. Days of endless summer seem to push the thought of Autumn farther to the back recesses of the mind, a place that does not yet exist, although each day that passes, waking with a new ache, a new pain replacing yesterdays malady, makes the weight of the changes so much more profound. I don’t want to be old. I don’t want to watch the world move without me, without my words drifting out from a thick volumes pages, without someone somewhere saying, yes, she was someone beautiful. Will I remember as my hair turns to brilliant shades of white, glistening like the Northern snow I left behind in search of the sun, each fragment of joy that I embraced, each word of kindness spoken, each piece of beauty, will it still remain the same? Fresh like a crisp red apple that falls from a tree, waiting to be tasted, even though I know before my lips even prick the skin, I know the taste will be tart, the consistency crunchy, the juice so very sweet. It’s these things I want to remember. The Autumn of life so far away yet I still ponder it in my youth, for it is youth that sustains me. The feeling of exceeding each day in wonder, in memory. I need the laughter, the love of a moment that may never pass this way again, the exuberance of the failed attempts at hula hooping or the glee as I awake in the morning, rolling on the bed with the two hounds, feeling like I’m part of a pack of puppies as they wag their tail, rubbing their selves around me with a toothy smile and a bubble gum pink tongue hanging as if they themselves are relishing this moment. The rain came down with flashes of lightning and it lifted me as it has a tendency to do. It is cleansing, this rain. The little hound sits by my feet, knowing I will protect her or perhaps it is she protecting me. The sheets of water fell for a little while then moved on, it’s mission done for now, perhaps to return, we shall see. For here there is constant change, sun to cloud to dark to light and back round again. Perpetual summer but the rains that I remember and loved best always came in autumn. The smell of earth being washed clean, the damp leaves that would now become a part of the earth, from life to death, full circle. I am not morose, instead I am capturing the meandering path these thoughts take, in a land of people who move slow, elderly bodies with kind eyes that pass in the market and nod a simple hello, and even to poets who reach a long lived age and with a vibrancy I too wish to secure for myself. So many lessons to learn on living and staying young, lessons from nature, and from memories of a lifetime still to embrace.
To the young and old at heart, keep on keeping on and don’t forget to laugh and embrace the world around you.