While February always seems to me to be the month of 35 days, August rolls through as if there were only three weeks of it. I glanced out my window yesterday and, lo and behold in the forest of trees behind our home, one small tree had already begun to change leaf color. How can it be that the seasons change so quickly and time passes almost unnoticed? How is it that the once vibrant flowers of July have now begun to fade, retreating already into next year?
How does time pass so quickly?
When I was younger, I thought I would never reach adulthood. Days were endless. I felt like Peter Pan, destined to never grow up and certainly to never grow old(er). And yet, seemingly suddenly, here I am, in the middle of my life. The middle, that is, if I live until my early 90’s. Peter Pan flitted off or morphed, as it were, into an grown up of sorts. And here I sit. Still full of child-like wonderment, simultaneously faced with the realities of adulthood.
I certainly do not wish for my colorful blossoms to fade. I am not ready for my leaves to change color, must less fall off!! I understand my spring has passed, but summer…summer…I still want my summer. This is, I understand, a normal passage. A doorway through which many peek into with a similar perspective. I am not alone. This should be a comfort to me, but it is not. I am a bit uncomfortable in my own skin right now.
I wonder, is this how a caterpillar feels before it breaks from its dangling chrysalis and emerges a beautiful winged creature?
But it might be menopause. Which is no time to wax philosophical.
(Lol. 🙂 I never know where my photos will lead my fingers across the keyboard…)