Suddenly an Autumn Age

After some wind and rain across our region yesterday, I opened the door this morning to our gorgeous  Japanese maple, glowing in flaming red. Everything glistened and glowed in the early morning light, still damp from the rains. It had somehow turned a brilliant red over night. Suddenly, hadn't it? Because how could I have missed it otherwise?

How did I not notice until now?

A few days ago, I noticed for the first time a new wrinkle cutting across my upper cheek. It follows a completely new and original path across earlier smile wrinkles, not part of my rays of crowsfeet, but a graceful curve flaunting its independent creasing. It's another smile wrinkle, but... how did it get there and where is it going?  It seemed to have appeared overnight. And suddenly it's middle age.


How did I not notice until now?


I've been "enjoying" such signs for some time now: the slanting light, the colorful trees, and the creaky pops of my knees and neck. It's not too bitter or frosty yet, so an extra layer or stretch keeps things running smoothly, so no worries. It's not that I have not seen the signs, but these new signs? Ah, so the portents are true. It really is the Autumn Age.

Maybe it's just that noticing this one new thing (or maybe it's an old thing that presented itself, waving it's hands for attention) highlights the state of being. Ah, so this is where I am now. Cool. Amazing, weird, a little scary, but cool. Brilliant, in fact. Beautiful, even. But really new. Cheerfully blazing new-trail new.

The tree and me, waving our hands at our present state. Hey! It's present me!
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