A Runner's 55

Finished the Florida half marathon in February
7th out of 47 women in my age group (65-69).
Felt good but I set a new goal: keep running
until 70 when I'm the youngest in the age group
and come in first. This woman of a certain age
likes to have something to aim for.


For G-Man's Friday 55. True story.

On the Jacksonville beach:

At the finish line:

50th High School Reunion

I received an invitation that threw me for a loop- to my 50th high school reunion. I graduated in 1963 so, of course, it's my 50th anniversary, but I hadn't stopped to think about that until the invitation from a former classmate who tracked me down on Facebook. I'm going, of course, and will stay with my best friend from those days who now lives in Hartford, CT. I head for Boston the day after tomorrow. It brings a new dimension to the term elder on this journey I'm living. It makes me realize that I'm there and not just on a journey there. Although my 96 year old father says: "Your 60's are just the youth of old age.".

I'm still trying to wrap my mind around this and I think actually being there will help me to do so. I'll let you know.

In the meanwhile, my computer won't upload photos to my blog. It's a new problem and I don't know why. It was preceded by the screen turning bright yellow while uploading photos and then by it turning black. Seems ominous to me. Any ideas?

What I planned to post were photos of some everyday things that fill my days. Simple things, like my Honey starting to make bread, with focaccia and ciabatta the most recent delicious examples. Of lunches and dinners enjoyed with friends, a double rainbow that followed a storm last week, new herbs and geraniums already growing on the balcony, purple blossoms on the chives surprising and delighting me (who knew?), an ancient olive tree found in the country with its branches trimmed in a fanciful way, and my daughter and the grands fostering a young hawk until he or she can survive on his or her own. My life is full, my heart is full, but 50 years since high school? Wow.

Phases

Full moon shone light
on the balcony last night,
heat shimmers wavered
from earth that's summer baked,
lights of a far off city flickered
between bright and faint glimmer.

The air felt rooted,
somehow expectant.
For what? I lost concord
with moon force
when body alliance moved
to sun's heat from moon's cool.

Am I kept marooned, bereft
of this forty year connection,
left to find fresh ways to ferret
earth wisdom? I search, detect
accords unknown, now emerged
with deeper light, shifted yet effulgent.


I experimented with the form of this poem based on a prompt at the beginning of August and posted it as Moon Phases. This is the original poem inspired again by the full, blue moon.
(photo from google images)