"KEEP ME SEARCHING FOR A HEART OF GOLD. AND I'M GETTING OLD." NEIL YOUNG

NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY

Robert Frost, 1874 - 1963
Nature’s first green is gold, 
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

This poem has been on my mind all week as I have driven around Waynesville, which is finally experiencing the peak of fall colors.  Although the hues are somewhat muted this year, the oranges and golds and magentas are stunning, and the hillsides blaze in the sun.  This is my favorite time of the year, and I revel in the beauty of my surroundings.  We frequently rejoice with a "We LIVE HERE!!" expression of amazement, but never more so than when Autumn is hitting her stride.

Yet alongside the trees that are still at the peak of their perfection stand other trees which have already lost their leaves.  This stark contrast is a reminder of what is soon to come, when we will have moved on to another lovely time up here in the Blue Ridge.  This cusp of seasons brings a hint of melancholy--a realization that "nothing gold can stay."

This realization has been intruding into my consciousness a bit more than usual lately.  Perhaps it's because I recently turned 67.  When I go to the doctor for my annual checkup now, Medicare  "wellness" reports butt into my life by asking questions about how often I fall, or if I need help with medications, or if I'm unusually depressed.  (Carol and I laugh about how we dread the "test" when we're asked to draw a clock indicating a specific time and we are nervous until we get it right!  Those of you digital kids out there--you sometimes have to think about how 2:17 looks on a clock face!)  I'm relatively healthy for my age and I never shy away from telling anyone how old I am, but the looming threat of diabetes, the old age blemishes, and the facial features that are losing their fight against gravity are a daily reminder that I am really not the 35 that my inner Donna tells me I am.

The inevitability of change is nothing new to any of us, of course.  Matriarchs (or patriarchs) who have held a family together pass away. Siblings grow apart, regardless of the bond of love.  Children grow up and embark on lives of their own, somehow unwittingly diminishing ours. Estrangements arise in families, creating breaches never even imagined in years past. Relationships alter,   bringing wisps of sadness.  Spouses die--an unfathomable seismic shift forcing unwanted changes in routines and customs.  But babies are born, new friendships are made and new opportunities created, and sometimes even dear old friends move to town.

I'll close this now before I resort to a cheesy rendition of "The Circle of Life" (even though it may be appropriate).  Or maybe a better ending would be:

"Ob-la-di ob-la-da life goes on bra

La-la how the life goes on"!!

It does indeed.  And I'm grateful for every day of it.

"OLD FRIENDS, MEMORY BRUSHES THE SAME YEARS..." Paul Simon

On the way home from town today--March 19, 2017

Today I was reminded again of the  cliche of how quickly time passes--how inexorably the years slip away.  I had breakfast this morning with an old friend from Baton Rouge, Faith.  She is the kind of friend you can pick up and be comfortable with even though you haven't seen each other in literally decades. We've kept in touch--mainly through Facebook--but haven't really been part of each other's lives in a long time.  

As much as I enjoyed the brief visit with her and her friends, I would have loved to have been able to curl up in front of a fireplace and talk.  You know--really talk.  About how she is managing her life as a relatively recent widow.  About how she spends her days.  About what her joys and fears are. About my life.  I sat across from this woman who looks wonderful, in spite of the passage of years, and think about the women we were when I first knew her. We were English teachers working in a difficult situation, one which grew intolerably bad until we fought back and exposed some major malfeasance in office from the administration. This was one of the most difficult times of my life, and having had Faith endure this with me cements the bond we had.  Of course, we had some wonderful fun times as well.  Anyway, it was great seeing you today, Faith, and I hope you come back up here sometime so we can have a longer visit.  Wanda has talked about us all meeting sometime in Louisiana.  I'd love to come to Breaux Bridge and have you show us around your neck of the woods.

I'm the second from the right if you can't tell.

Speaking of old friends,  I have two best friends, women who have known me since 1963 when we were in the 7th grade.  We have literally grown up together I suppose.  One of them, Brenda, recently moved to Waynesville!!  At dinner last night we were commenting on how we seem to quickly lapse into some strange hillbilly accent that we acquired years ago but only bring out when we're together. I love this lady dearly--she's kind, compassionate and funny as hell. She knows me better than just about any other human being on this planet.   Her sweet husband died in June, and the past 18 months have been difficult, to say the least.  I think she is beginning to be happy again, little by little.  It gives me great joy to know that she's close by.  I was not able to do much to help her when her husband was sick, which made me feel like not much of a friend at times.  I look forward to showing her more of the area when it gets to be Jeep weather again.  Her new mantra is "I am free of fear".  Encouraging words to live by for sure!

Carol recently got two new knees, and I'm kind of jealous.  I've been dealing with more and more knee pain that has severely limited my ability to do much of anything on slopes.  It's almost time for yard mowing, which definitely includes mowing slopes, and I need to be ready to do that. I also haven't been able to do any hiking, which has been fine up until now.  Carol will be good to go soon, and i want to be able to share some hiking adventures with her. I can't live on pain pills and knee braces, so I hope I can find a solution to this problem.  Another aspect of old age, I guess, and one I certainly don't like.

Spring has almost arrived at Ridgehaven.  I think our frigid temperatures of the past few days are over.  The daffodils are fading, alas, but we have a few tulips coming up. The goldfinches are turning gold again.   Blue birds are scouting for a nest in the box in the front yard.  Sweet Bella will no longer need her sweaters to go outside.  And it's almost camping weather again.

Life is good, and I'm glad to be alive and relatively healthy.