As I continued to thumb through my photos, I found this one. I took it while on a walk by a lake near my home. It's bark was smooth and soft to touch, almost calling for life to bring it an experience that would make an imprint on its character. Really, so precious in it's innocence and eager with a yearning to grow.
I couldn't help but compare these trees, one old and one young, to our conversation about aging with grace and acceptance. I sincerely do my best not to judge others. If tightening your skin through surgery makes you feel better, go for it, but I'm certainly glad trees weren't born with vanity. Nope. Fairies don't come out at night to polish their surface into smooth timber. Thank goodness. Those redwoods have endured earthquakes, torrential rains and man's invasion. I want to view these stories told so eloquently through the resiliency of their facade.
So here's to the stages of life from the promise of a newborn to the richness of the elderly and all the years in between. The key, I believe, is to embrace and honor each phase.
A LITTLE SOMETHING EXTRA:
"Father Time is not always a hard parent, and, though he tarries for none of his children, often lays his hand lightly upon those who have used him well; making them old men and women inexorably enough, but leaving their hearts and spirits young and full in vigor. With such people the grey head is but the impression of the old fellow's hand giving them his blessing, and every wrinkle but a notch in the quiet calendar of a well spent life."