Today is supposed to be hot and humid-Thelma and Louise will go to the beach if that proves to be the case after one of them gets off from work.It's been a warm couple of days here in the Southeastern Connecticut section of the Northeastern United States making it hard exactly to understand where I am philosophically.
I have no such problems with the time of the year except, even though I'm in the summer, I'm closer to the shortest and darkest day of the year than far away. I have a calendar and I understand how it works. This is NOT my first rodeo by any means. You could probably tell from my spurs and chaps. Unless you thought you'd stumbled into a Village People revival.
I (and I suspect I'm not alone but will use the first person singular pronoun and not merely because I am, indeed, a singular First professional person but to also offer you air cover from yourself) live much of my life as I age in the forward leaning mode. Early in the day sometimes is not so great but I have that thing coming up at 10:30 and then we'll do that other thing and by twoish, half past three at best, it'll be rainbows and free range radicals.
Trouble is, I spend so much in anticipation, I lose track of what the hell is going on while it's going on. Yesterday it came back and bit me in the nether regions, and quite frankly it stung. After dinner I went for a quick walk around the block. When you can finally walk, finally walk, without any pain in both of your legs from your hips to your ankles, you sneak in a brisk one (walk, perv, but thanks for the thought) whenever and wherever you can.
I had never really noticed how beautiful and simple the Columbus Obelisk is near the Norwich Free Academy. Twenty plus years of living here (less than that for Cristoforo C, but you get the point) and I was stunned at how lovely it looked. See for yourself.
I didn't overstate, did I? It is lovely, especially in the dusk mixing with the spotlights. And that's happening because despite my absolute unyielding insistence that this summer stay right here and right now until I give it permission to leave, the days are getting shorter. The next time I can savor the longest day of the year will be next year, when I'm even older and grayer if that's even a word. When I don't get what I want, I'm sad. When I do get what I want, I'm sad because I can't have more."The truth is written all along the page. How old will I be before I come of age for you?"