Looking up the river

Having lately wiped that slate clean of all outstanding bureaucratic matters, I find myself this bright sunny morning attired in comfortable freshly laundered clothing, satisfied after a nutritious and delicious breakfast, staring at the narrow, winding and unfrozen surface of the shadowy river. The slanting southwesterly sunshine contrasts the dark river with the blinding white snow on the shoreline and adjacent fields. As my eyes wander northward into the agricultural fields beyond the glassy river trail, it is universally a subdued image of static denuded trees and faint parallel lines beneath the snow in the harrowed rolling hills beyond.

No doubt you too have found yourself in similarly tranquil settings absorbed in contemplation and estimation of your status and consequence. I find it is not only a preoccupation concurrent with aging. Indeed I have forever consumed my leisurely moments with a review and estimate of living. Invariably I have arrived at the conclusion that no amount of persuasion – whether artificial, psychological, commercial, political, amorous or financial – dissuades me from the critical analysis of whether I have achieved my personal goals of success and gratification.  Never for example have I overcome the primary necessity to cultivate intelligent and often artistic achievements; that is, the paramount success is measured not by quantity or superiority, rather by logic and aesthetic.

The reason for this seemingly confined objective is the relation of the assessment to nature. Nature is forever the inexplicable and inescapable influence. It undeniably affects not only what we see but who we are. The limitation of one or the other defines both. We too like nature have our seasons of development and exhibition. At times there is need for recovery and enhancement. What remains in every instance is the on-going cultivation of the image both within and without.  There is no pretending the ineffective alteration of one or the other will succeed to dilute or estrange what we perceive.

If indeed there were any advantage to aging, it is the growing capacity to distill all that has transpired in life and to savour the ethereal aroma that approaches evaporation.