It might be a weird analogy, but having reached 50 years of age, I meditate on the end of my days, the last decade or two in the sunlight. I should want the sunlight beaming on me right up to the end and not settle in among the shadows prematurely, misled into believing the day is done.
Even the cloudiest days can end with a flourish of color and light. Who knows whether tonight the horizon will burst into radiant pink and orange, in swirling textures and bold designs? I don’t want to miss it.
Pondering old age and death when there are hours left to play seems needlessly sad. Living amid the trees, I forget what it was like. I should go back out after dinner, as in days of yore, dancing like a pagan and chasing my wife and finally standing shoulder-to-shoulder facing the west with a satisfied salute as the sun finally goes in. Good-bye, friend, and thank you.
Then, having lived life fully before my death, I can retire for the night in faith that there will be another dawn, an awakening, and an enduring summer’s day when we are all as children let loose to play on the warm grasses, forever.
Nathan Harter writes a weeky lifestyle column for The Daily News. You can catch more of his musings online at www.greensburgdailynews.com