Sunday, October 21, 2007
Old Fruit and Autumn
If life were condensed into the 12 months of the year, middle to late August is probably where one would find me. However, as I look at the world around me here in mid-October with the Wyoming autumn on the wane, I seem to relate to much of its imagery.
At first glance, most strangers probably think I'm in decent shape, but any feats of athletics from my youthful past are either impossible or dangerous if I were to try them now. The other day I looked at a wide open field and thought to myself how inviting it was to perform a series of back handsprings (i.e., flip-flops) across the soft turf as I used to twenty-some years ago. Considering the havoc it might wreak on my middle-aged wrists, back and ankles, I opted for a few simple cartwheels and called it good. Another twenty-some years from now, I'll probably have to settle for simply walking across that same field.