Sunday is my birthday. I’ll turn 47, which is a blessing since all this past year I’ve thought of myself as 47; so it doesn’t really feel as though I’m aging.
This photo was taken up at Catoctin when I went up there recently with the seniors. Somehow it’s speaking to me of this age I am turning: the emptiness of the chair in the foreground, and how inviting it seems; the movement of the young person in the distance, and the separation by the pond.
That would make it seem as though I am yearning for youth, but it’s not. I have no desire to participate in the things the people at school are doing (and I include much of the staff!) for so much of it I have done, and can look upon with the blessed sense of release. More than that though, much more, is the feeling that I still have so much to do.
So much so that it often seems I hardly have time for my job . . .
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