Walking in the cemetery, in September, in my sixties is something to make me think... the year coming to its end, me approaching my three score years and ten - and it reminds me of a poem i wrote many years ago, as I was coming up to 40 - (and how young that seems now). But it was then I began to realise how short life is.
The Botanical Gardens in Autumn (by me)
As the year sets slowly in the West
Its last dying glow
sets fire to the gardens
Virginia creeper reddens on stone walls.
Walking here, nearly forty, I know
How short it all is
How quickly it goes.
Shivering, I warm myself
at the dahlia's flame
the firethorne's bright coals.
Now I am hoping to live 'to time indefinite' in the restored earthly Paradise. Hoping...
We shopped this morning - and I found the index cards for Maggie in Sussex Stationers. We heard from cousin Linda, and I spoke to Audrey on the phone - we are going out together tomorrow. And Col and I went for a walk in the beach late afternoon. There was a strong wind, white horses on the sea, which was on its way back to the beach from a long way out, and it rained a bit. The raindrops felt like hailstones the wind was so strong.
I am getting to love this flat pebbly coast, with its big skies.