Dear Diary,
Autumn is here again. If it wasn't my birthday i'd still be able to tell because the trees are no longer green they are red and orange. Also the days are getting shorter and cooler. Winter lurks closer.
Speaking of my birthday it's actually on Monday the fifth. i'm going to be thirty two. That to me is a crazy notion. i still feel and somewhat act like i'm sixteen. i wonder if it's like that when one is a senior? Feel like their teenaged self inside an old, deteriorating body? Aging is a strange, quirky thing that often consumes a lot of my thoughts. Well it's not so much the aging part as it is the dying at the end that consumes my thoughts.
Ahem...O.k. It's Saturday and lately i've been thinking of The Ant And The Grasshopper. Have you heard that old tale? i'll give you the low down briefly:
The grasshopper is immersed in his pleasures all summer while the ants industriously work together gathering food and whatnot for the impending winter. Winter comes and of course our grasshopper friend is threatened because he spent the summer sating his pleasures instead of working to store food. Yadda yadda you get the idea. The ants aren't worried because they worked all summer and i believe in the Disney version (if there is one) it ends with the ants saving the grasshopper.
At the end of summer i always start thinking of this old story. And i of course am the grasshopper. One day i may figure out the moral of that story...
Alright so...
My candle burns at both ends
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends -
It gives a lovely light.
Edna St. Vincent Millay, "A Few Figs from Thistles", 1920
US poet (1892 - 1950)
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends -
It gives a lovely light.
Edna St. Vincent Millay, "A Few Figs from Thistles", 1920
US poet (1892 - 1950)
