Notes on These Later Years

I watched another sunset tonight.

Took in the autumn vibes swirling around me.

And made it through another day, body and soul intact.

I don't know what I once thought these senior years would be like.

I rarely have a day where I don't wonder about how much time is left.

Five years? Ten Years? Less or more? Tomorrow?

All those years where I wanted to speed up time and now I'd give up just about anything to slow it down.

To experience again some of the pleasures (and pains) of youth.

Or to feel like there's more out there than just wandering through these later years of a life.

Sometimes I'll catch a video or story about some sort of dire prediction for the future and I think to myself .... "With a little luck I'll be gone by then"

But I don't really want to be gone.

Sometimes being alive frightens me.

But all thoughts of someday being gone, frighten me.

Feels like the ultimate dilemma. 

Do people ever truly make peace with that eventual certainty?

These thoughts are accompanied by youtube audio of  'Thursday Afternoon' by Brian Eno ..... whatever unrelated music I was playing before just led to this and it feels appropriate .... Spacey, moody, floating above it all, no fear of falling.

I started an attempt at poetry about three weeks ago on this getting older thing.

Had what I thought was a good start and was making good progress when I came to a wall.

And I've been unable to continue since.

So I've been waiting ...... to see what comes next or if it's finished as is.

I've asked before ..... how do the real poets know? 

I read the comments on the Brian Eno video.

One person commented that his mother told him that he was born while this music played.

Imagine that!!

It reminds that my mom told me that when she was eight months pregnant, that she was hit by a train one dark and foggy night, demolishing all of the car except the seat where she (and I) sat behind the steering wheel. 

I took up photography around the time that I walked away from playing basketball.

I don't think I was aware at the time of the hole that was created and that photography would help fill it.

I've discovered an equal level of excitement and enjoyment.

This photo of a heron with the creek waters swirling around was one of my earliest efforts.