Swans and more

Swans in the Skagit Valley

I found this lovely picture on one of my Facebook friends' page, of the migrating swans that show up in this area every fall. I had been seeing some queries about whether they have started migrating yet, and then this picture. They sure are beautiful! Then, after reading about their journey on this page from Nature, I also learned that we have other white-winged birds in our area. From that page:

Swans migrate from Alaska down to Washington every year. Two kinds of swans make this annual journey: trumpeter swans and tundra swans. Both can be seen at places like western Washington’s Skagit Delta, where they may mingle together.

Now, considering the other information on that page, I'm wondering if maybe these are snow geese, rather than swans as they were labeled on my friend's site. The reason for that is I learned that the snow geese congregate in huge numbers.

For many, Washington’s flocks of winter snow geese are a favorite spectacle. While these birds come here every year, they never fail to amaze. Why? Because they come to western Washington’s greater Skagit Delta by the tens of thousands! When these flocks take off en masse – say, because a bald eagle flies overhead – they are so noisy and dizzying to behold that it’s easy to lose one's balance. 

So, that picture is either of swans or snow geese. Maybe one of my readers is more familiar with them and can tell the difference. In any event, I sure love to see so many beautiful waterfowl all at once.

* * *

 Last night, we gained an extra hour of sleep; it's only 4:30am on the clock, but 5:30am to my body's clock, so here I am writing my post "early" because I couldn't sleep any longer. Tonight I'll need to force myself to stay awake past my usual bedtime or this problem will continue again into tomorrow morning. It's funny, I easily adapt to the time change in the spring, when we lose an hour, much more than I do in the fall. Perhaps it's my own circadian rhythm to have shorter, rather than longer, days.

Many people tend to get depressed as the daylight dwindles, but it doesn't happen that way for me. In fact, I find recently that I have unexplained moments of happiness well up several times a day. Although I do get dragged down occasionally by world events, mostly I just live in the smaller community of my home town, where life is pretty good. However, tonight the sun will set at 4:46 and will continue to set earlier and earlier, until we get to the winter solstice on December 21st, when it will set at 4:15pm. I keep track by using timeanddate.com for my area. I find very interesting to peruse the chart and consider how different it would be if I lived, for example, in Florida. While we are experiencing a fairly normal fall, my sister is still enduring abnormally warm temperatures there.

I much prefer having a real change in the seasons. And since we live so far north, we also get the long days in summer and long nights in winter. I am also fascinated by the fact that in the Southern Hemisphere, it's just the opposite: they are moving into summer, and their days are growing longer. What a wonderful planet we live on.

Sometimes I wonder whether I will live long enough to see real positive change in the world. Probably not, since I guess it will need to get worse before we come to our senses and begin to take care of Mother Earth. I try to do my part by using less plastic, recycling wherever I can, and reducing my carbon footprint as much as possible. I ride the bus almost every day. When I walk to the bus stop on my way to the Y, I also get additional exercise and never miss my step count for the day. I'm rather addicted to the way I feel after I've had a dose of physical activity.

I recently learned that we have a serious obesity epidemic here in the United States. I kind of noticed that, once I moved here from Boulder, Colorado, where the number of overweight people is not as high as here. It's been awhile since I was there, so maybe I would see more obese people if I visited today.

Over 70 million adults in U.S. are obese (35 million men and 35 million women). 99 million are overweight (45 million women and 54 million men). 2016 statistics showed that about 39.6% of American adults were obese. Men had an age-adjusted rate of 37.9% and Women had an age-adjusted rate of 41.1%.

That quote is from the Wikipedia link about obesity.  Does this mean that almost all those overweight people don't exercise? I notice at the gym that there are very few obese people. It might mean they are leaner because they are more active, or it might be that some overweight people don't want to dress in workout clothes. I know that exercise and diet are essential elements to my own efforts to maintain a proper weight. Although I carry a few more pounds that I'd like, my BMI (body mass index) places me in the normal category. And every extra pound means that much more stress on my vulnerable knees.

Going back to the beautiful birds at the beginning of his post, they sure don't have to worry about getting too much food to eat. It is rather amazing to think about what the problems are that cause humans to overindulge. Are we looking for security if we keep eating when we're not hungry?

Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do people as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing. —Helen Keller

Yes,  a daring adventure. That's from the experience of Helen Keller, who managed to lead a wonderful life without being able to see or hear. She read and wrote numerous books, graduated from a prestigious college, and is an inspiration to many, including me. When she writes that avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure, she speaks directly to me.

And that brings me to the end of this rather self-indulgent post. I just followed wherever my thoughts took me, and now it's almost time to get out of bed and begin a new day. My partner still sleeps next to me, the tea is long gone, and the coffee shop beckons. Although it won't even open for more than an hour, I'll get up and putter around a bit before heading out the door. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things.

Time of the year for spooks

Pumpkin patch and Mt Baker

I wonder why so many people enjoy all the scary movies and programs that are everywhere during the Halloween season. I've never enjoyed being frightened, whether on purpose or by accident. Halloween falls on this coming Thursday, with Mexico's Day of the Dead following right after. I have to say I really enjoyed the animated movie Coco, which is all about this day. It's still available on Netflix, and I just might have to watch it again, just for fun. If you haven't seen it, maybe this is the time for it.

When I was a kid, I loved to dress up for Halloween. I remember one year when I was about ten, when I dressed up as a grown-up lady, complete with a sequined dress, a fancy hat, and lots of makeup. I thought I was gorgeous, but somewhere there is a picture (which I cannot find) that shows it was just a little ridiculous, instead of what I imagined myself to be. But mostly I dressed up as a witch or a ghost, which back then was pretty common. Or a princess, maybe.

Today I live in a place that gets few, if any takers for candy. Of course, I always have to buy some just in case, and I turn on my porch light, always hoping for a few little ones to make their way up the stairs and to my door. This year, any takers will get a whole Kind Bar, since I bought them for myself and will share them with anybody who shows up. Over the years, I've had fewer than a dozen trick-or-treaters all together. It means I need to keep something at hand, but making sure I don't use buying candy for the nonexistent kids as an excuse to have too much of it around. I'm sure you understand and have probably eaten a little Halloween candy yourself.

In any event, this time of the year is a little sad, as the days get shorter and the nights longer, even as one gets to enjoy the falling leaves and brilliant colors of fall. My birthday is now only one month away, and if anyone were to ask, I'd tell them my age as if I had already had that birthday, just so I can get used to it before it befalls me. I've done that for years now, and it makes me realize that once a woman gets to a certain age, you no longer need to worry about trying to look young, because, well, it doesn't work. Inside my own head, I'm much younger than my actual years. In Bellingham, once you reach the age of 75, you ride the bus for free. Nobody exclaims in surprise when I pull out my geezer card to board the bus.

Yesterday I walked with the ladies as the clouds cleared and it became sunny, although not warm. My knee is behaving and I seem to have regained my ability to hike at a normal pace. Although I will never walk with the fastest of us, I am still able to keep to the middle of the pack rather than lagging behind. This makes me very happy, meaning that for now I am back to what I consider my normal routine. I'll enjoy it while it lasts.

Probably the one thing that bothers me the most these days is my inability to remember things. I misplaced the key to the laundry room the other day, and after a couple of hours of panic, I found it in a pocket, right where I had placed it so I wouldn't lose it. I was wearing a top that has two small pockets that I keep forgetting about, and after having searched everywhere, I felt really embarrassed that I had not thought to look there. And I wear over-the-glasses sunglasses and place them on my head when not needing them. You can probably guess how often I've searched for them, only to find them right there on my head. Yes, I've always done this, but not to this extent. Or looking for something that I had just moved and forgot where I put it.

The advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys several times the same good things for the first time. ― Friedrich Nietzsche

Yes, this is the best part of misplacing things: once you find them again, it's like a gift of joyful reunion. I was uplifted for the rest of the day, after I found that key. So there are upsides to just about everything, if you look for them. It's also true that the loss of anything, including loved ones, fades with time, and then you can enjoy remembering them without the searing pain of loss. The important thing, for me, is to think about my loved ones, both living and dead, with gratitude that they will always be part of my life. Nothing is permanent, all is transient, so to remember to enjoy what I do have right now is a key part of my enjoyment of living.

Right this moment, my dear partner sleeps next to me, and I need to remember to tell him how much I love him at least once today. I will tell my friends at the coffee shop how much I care about them. Oh, and there you are, dear friend of the blogosphere: have I told you lately how much I appreciate you? Although you are a virtual friend, you are no less important to me.

Until we meet again next week, I hope you will be well and will remember to tell your loved ones how glad you are to have them in your life. Or in your memories, if they are already on the other side. I wish you all good things, dear ones.

Accepting changes

After a skydive

It's been a long time since I've made a skydive. More than four years, in fact. I was an instructor when this picture was taken. I've always liked this photo, because it shows how happy I felt afterwards. That was true more often than not. Skydiving is part of my personal history, and like so much of my life, while in the past, those memories continue to surface.

For some reason, my dreams have lately taken me back into those years. I loved what I did, and I had many friends who were also with me when we jumped out of perfectly good airplanes together. I woke from a dream the other night where I could feel the air when I leaped out into space. It was very vivid and real. The colors were brilliant and all my senses were engaged. Except I was dreaming it all.

Sometimes I wonder if I could even make a skydive today. I've still got all my faculties, my knees and body still work well enough, and after more than four thousand skydives, surely I would remember how. But would I want to? What compelled me back then? I never let anything stand in my way when I wanted to jump, and long days out at the Drop Zone always left me feeling blissfully tired as I drove home.

Ah, but that was then. Who in the world was that person? Is she still a part of the present day me? Changes sometimes come slowly, and other times they come all at once. Today the injuries I sustained during my skydiving years are beginning to remind me that they will always be there, alongside my happy memories. That is normal, and I have been incredibly fortunate to have become a senior citizen, made it through all these years, with who knows what adventures still to come?

One of my favorite blogging friends, Doris, is now celebrating having written her 100th post. Now for some of you, this doesn't sound like much, but she started writing Engaging With Aging when she turned 95. She's now 97, twenty years older than I am, and she writes with honesty and vigor about her ARCs (age-related changes) and how she copes. Her past posts are essential reading for me these days.

She's got one adventure ahead of her that we will all share: leaving our bodies behind as we pass from this earth. I wonder if I will be able to have so much of my essential me-ness with me as she does, as I move through the rest of my life. Even now, she looks forward to each day and her blog gives her (and me) plenty to ponder about what's left as we each deal with our own individual ARCs.

My biggest fear is losing my eyesight. I realize that it would be harder to lose my sight than just about anything else. Dealing with AMD (age-related macular degeneration) has given me more appreciation for my ability to continue to see well enough to read as much as I want, drive, walk to the bus, perform my yoga routine, or head out on the trails with friends. Of course, anyone who has AMD knows that it doesn't lead to complete blindness, but takes little bits of sight away as it progresses. I have lost much of my ability to see details with each eye, but for now, one eye takes over for the other, and my central vision is unaffected. That's not exactly true, but it's good enough to do all I require of my eyes. For now.

And I've got so much to be grateful for. The place that we've chosen to retire, Bellingham, is filled with all kinds of activities that people across the aging spectrum can enjoy. Art walks, museums, walking trails, and a great bus system that will allow me to get anywhere around town I wish to visit without using my car. Physical activity is possible with even limited mobility. I watch with interest when someone in a wheelchair waits to board the bus. A ramp is extended, and the driver assists the person onto the bus and folding seats give the chair a place to be secured. Even people with rolling walker seats can ride the bus and are able to get just about anywhere they need with our bus system.

And of course, I've got all those memories that resurface in dreams. Have you ever woken from a dream thinking that it happened? Those kinds of dreams have been coming to me more often lately. Last night I dreamed that I was getting ready to leave a party, and the two people who came with me didn't want to go quite yet. I convinced them that I needed to leave, and then we had to travel through an intricate maze back to the car. I lagged behind as they chatted and I used their voices as a guide. Just as I was beginning to lose my way, I woke up.

Yes, I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world. —Oscar Wilde

And now I am awake and ready to start another day. My tea is gone, this rather unusual post percolated its way out of my fevered brain and will now enter the world. Sometimes I wake up with a sure idea of what I will write, but as you can see, this was not one of them. I hope that the coming week will bring you much joy and happiness, and until we meet again next week, be well.

Beginnings and endings

Leaves and water

I had a bit of a scare this morning when I went to turn on my laptop. It was dead. No nothing, and I tried everything I knew to make it turn on. Then I got my iPad and searched for what to do if such a thing happened, and I found the solution. Why in the world it just didn't turn on was rather upsetting. After a "hard restart," everything seems to be normal again.

After having read about the problems with the new operating system that Apple just released, I decided not to put it on my laptop. This dear friend of mine (my MacBook Air) is now four years old and it doesn't seem to like the latest updates very much. It's getting to be time to replace my old friend. After having checked online, I realize it's becoming a necessity. Sigh. More things to get used to, different plugs and ports, as well as a new operating system. But at least I've got my laptop up and running for the moment.

Yesterday I went to the outdoor wedding of my friend Carrie, who runs my favorite coffee shop, and Tim, who started out as a customer and became her boyfriend. They are now married. It was brave to have an outdoor wedding at this time of year, because it could have been raining, freezing cold, or even snowing. But the weather cooperated: it was a little cool but pleasant, cloudy with no wind. It was a lovely ceremony and then afterwards they had arranged for a reception at a local brewery (Twin Sisters). We were all given one drink and a selection of sandwiches and the usual trays of cold food. I enjoyed a turkey sandwich and a lovely IPA.

At the same time, another dear friend of mine, Lily, who lives in our apartment complex, filed for divorce on Friday. She is sad and still living here until she finds a new place that she can afford. She pays an enormous amount every month for her year-old car, so her options are limited. I think she has found a coworker to move in with, until she has time to find something more permanent. She is a very hard worker and has become a good friend.

So some things have just begun, and others are ending. I think Lily will be just fine once she has worked everything out. She knows she has my friendship, and we will still be seeing each other often, hopefully. And of course I'll see my friend Carrie almost every day at the coffee shop. She and her new husband will be continuing their lives as before, since they had already been living together. Not much will change for them, but the commitment and ceremony always make a difference, in my own experience.

I've been married four times myself, with those old relationships long in my past. Although I was very young (and pregnant) with the first one, it lasted five years and produced two children. By the time I had turned thirty, all three marriages were behind me, and I embarked on a two-decade period of not being married. Then at fifty, I met my current and forever partner, and we have now been together more than a quarter of a century. We have grown old together, and I cannot imagine my life without him. I cherish every day we share.

All of my family members will be gathering in Texas to celebrate the marriage of my nephew. It's a big affair and I decided not to attend, although all the rest of my siblings will be there. They have a formal dress code, with the women expected to wear a cocktail dress or a formal jumpsuit. Even if I had been thinking of attending, I haven't worn anything like that in decades, and it would have been enough to give me pause. I'll see plenty of pictures, I'm sure, and I'm just a little sad not to be there with them, but also relieved not to have to deal with the travel headaches.

The older I get, the less I want to leave my own routine and home. It's not that I can't, but I sure don't want to if I don't have to. My sister PJ died in 2014, and that was the last time I visited Texas. Perhaps it would be prudent to attend when it's a happy occasion, but I just can't get excited about traveling right now. Am I becoming an old fuddy-duddy? It sure looks like it. When you're approaching eighty, it's almost expected. (I've still got a few years before then.)

Physical changes are expected, definitely. I've slowed down considerably, and yesterday I decided not to try to keep up with the ladies' walking group. I started out with them, and as hard as I tried, I could not stay with them, so I just turned around and headed out to the nearby park for a nice solitary walk at a reasonable pace. It just occurred to me that I am by far the oldest member of this group, so there might be a reason I'm lagging behind. Usually other women are available for me to walk with, but they had the good sense not to even come out for this particular walk.

It's becoming obvious that I've been in a bit of denial about what I can and cannot do these days. My seventy-seventh birthday is right around the corner, and I keep forgetting that my days of challenging myself to do harder things, go faster, and keep forging ahead as usual are over. At least I'm in fairly good shape, and if I can keep myself active and healthy, I can continue at a slower pace for a good long time to come.

As I sit here in the dark with the laptop illuminating the room, I realize that my life is pretty darn good, and I've got lots to be grateful for. Not the least of my blessings is my dear husband sleeping next to me, and my absent family and friends. Although my sister Norma Jean is the only one with whom I keep in constant contact, they are all there if I need them. And they know I am here as well, even if I am not traveling to Texas next month to attend the wedding.

And I know that you, my dear blogging family, are always there. I follow your lives and enjoy seeing what you're up to, and I look forward to your comments. The beginning and ending of life's ups and downs goes on with all of you, too, and I am always happy to hear of joyful events in your lives. I am there with you when you face some of life's ordeals. That's what community is all about.

The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. —Richard Bach

Well, with that delightful quote, I'm off to find out what today will bring me. First of all will be the coffee shop, of course, and then perhaps a nice walk if the weather cooperates. Until we meet again, dear ones, I wish you all good things and hope that you will find much to be grateful for.

Happiness and the mind

Lake Padden in sunshine and mist

This time of year, it's so easy to find beauty all around me. It makes me feel good to walk around Lake Padden at any time of the year, but when the brilliant colors begin to come out in the trees and bushes around the lake, I find that just being outdoors in the clear, crisp air makes me happy.

That made me wonder: is happiness a trick of the mind, or is it inherent in all situations? I know when I am feeling happy, the whole world looks better. There is plenty of research on positive psychology, and I find that most of what I've read assures me that it's possible to be happy by simply training my mind. My yoga practice teaches me that "A stable mind is like the hub of a wheel. The world may spin around you, but the mind is steady (BKS Iyengar)." And a quote from that link:

It’s well-documented that negative emotions like anger, anxiety, and sadness can impact our health in negative ways, such as triggering our stress response and contributing to chronic stress, making us more susceptible to disease. But Positive Psychology research has now found that positive emotions can aid health by undoing the physical reactivity that can lead to these problems.

Well, the world has certainly been spinning lately, and I am constantly trying to find my own equilibrium in the turbulent political atmosphere, both here and abroad. I've tried staying away from the news, but that doesn't make me feel any happier, just less informed. So, I'm busy trying to make sense of it all, with the help of my daily routine and activities.

When I am getting ready for a good night's sleep, which always makes me feel better, I have found that not eating too late always helps me get a better night's sleep. After climbing into bed and opening up my Kindle, I read for a few minutes from Light on Life by BKS Iyengar, which I was introduced to during one of my yoga classes. We usually receive a short lesson from the instructor before we begin the asana practice, and I was intrigued enough by this book to download a copy. It's not the sort of thing that grabs you and makes you want to read ahead, so it's perfect for giving me something positive to focus on before I drift into slumber.

Last night I read about the five qualities of mind. They include a dull state, a distracted monkey mind, an alternating or oscillating mind, a single-pointed attentive mind, and finally the the timeless state of absorption called "samadhi." I have experienced all of these except samadhi. Maybe one day I'll experience it, but I have certainly felt the monkey mind state, which certainly keeps me from feeling much happiness. When I'm in that state, I know that if I stop trying to figure everything out and lead my mind to focus on just one thing, like gratitude, reminding myself about what is positive in my life right at the moment, I begin to feel better.

Everyone has much to be grateful for, no matter what your situation might be. Well, most of us, anyway. I just flashed on what it must be like to live in a war zone. Could I find happiness there? Years ago I read Viktor Frankl's book, Man's Search for Meaning, about his experiences in a Nazi death camp. There are scenes from that book that stay with me. He was able to find purpose and meaning during those years, and several times he found real joy and love in such circumstances. Yes, it's possible to find happiness even there. He not only survived, but he has helped many others find our own way to a better life.

With every experience, you alone are painting your own canvas, thought by thought, choice by choice. —Oprah

As I sit here with my laptop perched on my knees, here in the dark, with only the light from the screen illuminating the room, I look around me at what many aspects of my present situation make me feel grateful. First and foremost, it's my dear partner sleeping next to me, making little puffy sounds as he breathes. He's so accustomed to the sounds of my tapping on the keys that it probably makes him feel safe as he subliminally hears it. Looking to the window, I notice it's dark outside, since we are losing more than three minutes of daylight as we move towards the solstice in just a few short months, and I look forward to the march of the seasons. Autumn is my favorite season, although I'm not quite sure why.

Another thing that gives me so much gratitude is the fact that I am not alone in my world. Not only do I have friends and family to be grateful for, but I also have this electronic community of friends, like you, who give me so much to appreciate. Every day I learn something new from my blogging friends, and there is a fertile interaction between us that gives me much satisfaction. I've been blogging for more than a decade now, and not only has the world changed greatly during that time, so has my community as it has grown and flourished. So much to be grateful for!

Today my friend Judy and I will see the new Renee Zellweger movie Judy. From the reviews, I'm pretty sure it will be enjoyable. Everyone is saying that she's perfect in the role of Judy Garland. And the sun should be shining most of the day, which will also be a nice change from all the rain. My tea got cold before I finished it, but I just swigged the last cold remnant and will now begin my day. I've done my first Sunday duty by writing this post. Then it's off to find happiness in the rest of my day. Be well until we meet again next week, dear friends.

My favorite season

Me at Lily Lake last Thursday

Melanie took this picture of me last week, and I didn't see it until I checked her Facebook posting about the hike. Lily Lake is still pretty, but as the season progresses, all the brush in front of me will begin to change colors and thin out. I love this time of the year, when it's cool for hiking but not yet cold, and the foliage brightens the landscape. My favorite season.

I am so pleased to be able to join my hiking friends once again, feeling like I'm almost back to normal. But not really: I really suffered on the downhill section of the hike back down the steep trail. Without my hiking poles, I wouldn't have been able to do it. But once you're out there, you don't have a lot of choice about it, you need to get back down. My knee is still sore, but now I'm beginning to think this is as good as it's going to get. I'll manage. It's not the distance that gets me, but the elevation change, especially navigating the steep downhill.

Yesterday I walked with the ladies around Lake Padden, a trip we make at least once a month, and for the past few months I've only gone once around the lake, but yesterday I went twice around, so I am slowly making progress. At my age, I should be happy that I am able to see a positive difference, but I am still in denial about my abilities. Just because it was easy a decade ago doesn't translate to the present day. Why is that so hard to accept?

One of my blogging friends, a new one I just recently discovered, hosts a blog she calls Engaging with Aging. She just wrote her 100th post, which is pretty amazing, when you consider she started writing this blog only two years ago, when she was 95. Her writing is clear and concise, and she talks about ARCs and how she deals with them. ARC stands for age-related changes, and I find her optimism and mental acuity inspiring. Here's an excerpt from her 100th:

Looking ahead, I foresee postings that reflect my accumulating, progressing ARCs, their effects that are creating increasingly difficult challenges and the constant, conscious adaptations that fill the minutes and hours of my day. I’ll continue to share what I can of my ongoing journey.

When I begin to feel grumpy about what I can or cannot do any more, I find myself gravitating over to her blog and reading one of the previous posts. She has not lost one whit of her sense of humor or joy at being alive, and she rarely communicates dismay over her ARCs. I figure if she can do it, so can I.

The internet and the community it has created through the blogs of everyday people has truly changed my life. Doris (the blogger in question) says that her blog allows her to "wake in the morning, ideas churning, eager to start the day." As I sit here in the dark, writing to fulfill my Sunday morning meditation, I now think of her, waking up and raring to go. I discovered that she was an RN for much of her life, so she knows how to help people, and those around her are now helping her in much the same way as she did when she was working.

But Doris is just one person within the pantheon of the blogosphere. I also have so many others who brighten my days with their posts. And they are all over the globe: some are here on this continent, but I also share community with one in Australia. I keep forgetting when I mention winter or summer, that it's opposite for her. She displays spring flowers while I enjoy the bright colors of fall. Some of my favorites live close to the water, while others are urban dwellers. One friend in Canada had a serious brush with his mortality and almost died during an operation. He is now in a wheelchair and writes of the changes he faces, having been an avid hiker before becoming paralyzed from the waist down. And there are so many others who feel as close to me as family members.

My sister just sent me a text, wondering where my post for this morning is. She's three hours ahead of me in time, so I guess she forgot. This post is taking a bit longer than usual, because I'm thinking about what I want to communicate, and it's elusive. Sometimes when I sit down to write, it all just pops out without much effort, and other times I struggle to find a direction. I am looking forward to a beautiful day, but this part of it takes as long as it takes, there's no shortcut. Oh, I could just throw some words on the page, but then I would feel bad about not having done due diligence in composing this properly for my readers.

And so, I just went looking for a quote (I always like to include one) about aging, and I found this succinct one from Betty Friedan):

Aging is not lost youth but a new stage of opportunity and strength.

I think Doris can attest to that. I encourage you to explore her world, and her incredible writing. And now, perhaps, I've gotten to the place where I can begin to wind this up and begin the rest of my day. My dear partner still sleeps quietly next to me, it's still dark outside, and my day beckons. The coffee shop awaits my attendance. Until we meet again next week, dear readers, I hope you will have lots of quiet adventures and happy times with those you love and who love you. Be well.

Last day of summer

Misty late summer scene

The autumnal equinox happens early tomorrow morning, in my part of the world at least. I took this picture last Thursday, and I like the mood of it, along with my true happiness at having been able to complete this favorite hike. I've missed so many this season, because of one injury after another. I guess it comes with the territory: you don't get to be a septuagenarian without having aches and pains.

That said, there are two people in this picture, both dear hiking friends, who both will be celebrating their eightieth birthdays early next year. I am a few years younger, but I am not far behind them on the aging spectrum. After having missed several hikes this summer, I had hoped my knees and back would be healed enough to accomplish this one, and sure enough they and I did. Even though one does take longer to get over things, you still do, given enough determination and help with exercises and, in my case, acupuncture.

I am wrestling with whether or not to go on next Thursday's scheduled hike, one of the more difficult ones: long with lots of elevation gain and plenty of rocky trails to navigate. In past years it's been, if not easy, at least well within my ability. Now I am not so sure, but I will probably go anyway, depending on the weather. As the days grow shorter, I want to be as active as I can while there is sunshine to enjoy. I feel so much better at the end of the day when I've had a chance to move enough to get my steps in. It's a good kind of tired, then.

This has been a very full week. Last Sunday I woke with a sore throat and cold, and I had to make my way through that, feeling pretty terrible for two days. When I realize how miserable I can be with just a simple cold, I'm reminded that I'd better go get a flu shot because I sure don't want to multiply that misery. A distant memory of my last bout with the flu is not a pleasant one. I've also been considering getting the latest shingles vaccine shots (there are two of them, six months apart), because that's another way to prevent or at least mitigate that awful virus.

 After recovering from the cold, I began to feel good again, and it was possible for me to have the energy I needed to complete the hike on Thursday. In fact, I've noticed a sort of rebound effect that happens after illness: I feel ridiculously happy and glad to be alive. And it helps to have plenty of good books to read, especially ones that give me a chance to ponder what makes one person thrive, while another experiences nothing but difficulty and unhappiness throughout life.

I usually have at least one long book on my Kindle, and I will read it for a few minutes before retiring. Sometimes it will be longer than a few minutes, but mostly that's all I need before drifting off. One book that I've been making my way through gives me plenty to think about: Aging Well: Surprising Guideposts to a Happier Life by George Vaillant. I think I've written here before about the book. Last night I finished it, and I realize I've got to find another similar one to take its place. George has also written another that looks interesting, so it's probably going to be my next one. I'd like to share the last part of Aging Well, because it's something I'd like to keep uppermost in mind.

Besides my sister, my favorite teacher is a two-inch-tall mouse named Stuart Little. Stuart told the children to remember three important rules: (1) Be a true friend. (2) Do the right thing. (3) Enjoy the glory of everything. ... 

A person who is looking for something doesn't travel very fast, and waving farewell to his childhood and boyhood, that secure and sun-warmed past that is over and done with and gone for all time. Yet Stuart knew this: "If a flower blooms once, it goes on blooming somewhere forever. What is changed is never gone unless we let it go."

This is a quote from a valedictory address by Timothy Coffeshall. He mentions E.B. White's character Stuart Little, a very human modern mouse. The above quote ends the valediction, and George uses it also to end his wonderful book.

Today will be a very full day. After heading off to the coffee shop, I'll join my friend Judy to see the new Downton Abbey movie. The reviews suggest that it will be enjoyable for fans of the series, but not so much for those who don't know and cherish all those characters. Since I'm one of the former, I'm sure I'll enjoy it. Afterwards, I'll join my dear friends here at the apartment complex for a birthday party. Because I'm someone who needs to go to bed rather early, it's starting at 4:00pm and will end no later than 7:00pm. And of course I can enjoy some wine, because my walk back to the apartment doesn't require driving. Yes, another full day.

I just checked the weather and, as expected, it's raining right now and will continue to rain all day long. I probably won't get a walk in, but Sunday is my usual day to relax and not worry about getting my steps. I can do that, but it's not easy. Instead, I'll enjoy a day filled with lots of companionship and joy. Just thinking about it all has brought a smile to my face. My dear partner still sleeps next to me, the tea is long gone, and the day beckons me out of bed. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things and truly hope that you will enjoy lots of smiles. Be well.