Captain Moth-Butterfly took this wonderful sunrise, which happened a few days ago, and which I missed. After a bad night - lots of pain - I finally fell sleep in the early hours and slept in. In my old age I am usually up early and can get quite a lot done in the mornings, and then I tail off, doing a lot of dozing on the sofa in front of Tipping Point for which I have a passion.
In that poetic evocation of old age in Ecclesiastes, it says that "one gets up at the sound of a bird". And, yes, I am usually up at the crack of dawn, even though it may take me some time to be showered and dressed.
Whereas when I was young, I can remember sleeping in for hours if I had the chance. It feels strange now. Life, for all the difficulties of age, seems so much more wonderful and exciting than it did then. I am much happier now. Yet I was a teenager in the 1960s, which was supposed to be a time of exciting new things and opportunities. And for some of course it was. But I can't say it felt like that at the time. It often felt bleak and daunting.
Looking back I can see there were opportunities, but I was in no way capable of taking advantage of any of them. Our poetry Fellow at Uni was Tony Harrison - someone whose poetry I admire to this day. He was young then of course - and very glamorous in a moody Ted Hughes kind of way. But I don't think I even dared to go to one of his poetry readings, let alone speak to him. As for attempting to show him one of my own poems - which back then would have been very callow and unformed anyway, and are hardly up to Poetry Fellowship standards even now when I am (in a very small 3-poem way) a published poet... very wisely I didn't.
It would really have left the poor guy only two options:
a) being unkind
or
b) being untruthful.
When I read Janet Frame's account of her Uni days, in An Angel at my Table, I related to it so much.
I am feeling guilty at the moment as I am not getting much done. I feel so tired. Wednesday I zoomed with a young sibling. And basically I carried on feeling very very tired. And on Thursday, I took the current finds from the Detectorists up to the FLO (Finds Liaison Officer to us civilians), as it was her day to visit the Museum and log and record the Club's current finds.
As I have no car, I had to order a taxi to take me there. And then I walked back. Its only a 15 minute walk, but even doing that has left me in pain and even more tired. My poor old back. And I cannot have a replacement spine... only Jehovah can give me that, as I hope he will, when the time comes to make all things new.
The mission was accomplished and I did manage to get the washing done and dusted before my sofa collapse. But I could feel my back during the night. It seems as if even such a small walk may soon be off-limits.
And I found this on-line yesterday, a reminder that Covid is still with us, and still something of an unknown factor:
The new Covid variant concerning experts worldwide has claimed its first victim, health officials have announced.
The first death from the Arcturus strain, thought to be around 1.2 times more infectious than the last major sub-variant, was recorded in Thailand on Thursday, amid a surge in cases across the globe.
He told Thailand’s PBS news station that the man who died was “an elderly foreigner” with underlying health conditions.
https://www.independent.co.uk/news/health/dead-arcturus-covid-variant-thailand-b2323608.html
An elderly foreigner with underlying health conditions. Substitute "person" for "foreigner" and there you have me.
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