Imagining that day in January when the sun doesn’t rise 

Until after I have been up with coffee for nearly an hour

And when night falls well before I am ready to end the day

The deep dark of winter where those precious hours allow for an escape to the beach.

I walk every day 

Weather hardly matters

I am a seasonal agnostic.

In fact, facing a stiff gale

Being covered in a driving wet snow is

Hardly adequate rent for all those summer days 

That arrive soon enough.

Time moves so quickly at this age

When you see your loved ones with disappearing futures.

But today, I am holding in my mind, this particular morning

In the kale field where we gleaned this week’s growth

There won’t be another harvest until October.

And to feel that energy from the soil and the sun rendering this food for us.

And the pleasant sensation of the sun at the back. 

How to summon this on those dark days ahead 

Except to accept them as resting and

 Readying for the next season. 

We grow older but the seasons cycle. We find and shows ourselves differently at each

Rotation of our planet. 

At 71, I am thankful that I can stoop and lift and bend and enjoy this adventure and all

Other adventures that my freedom allows. 

Just because it will not always be so does nothing to diminish the moment.