Aging Amaryllis

I'm always captivated by fading flowers and the changes in color and texture. They seem to age more gracefully than most people.

Some folks fight age for all they're worth--diet, exercise, dye, cosmetic surgery, makeup, denial. I, all too obviously, just succumb to nature, gravity, and my inner swamp witch.

After spending the first half of my twenties wearing uncomfortable clothes (heels, stockings, panty girdles, mandated by the prep school where I taught,) as well as makeup and coiffed hair (rollers and a hairdryer,) it was a relief to spend a summer wearing jeans and riding on the back of a motorcycle. And then to teach at a school where the dress code was quite relaxed.

And then to move to rural western North Carolina where there was no dress code. I had found my spiritual home.

And I'm still in that state of grace.

Note: who knows what the power situation will be for the next several days. Don't be surprised if I don't post.