shifting seasons

I don’t advocate sorrow. I pursue happiness in all avenues of life, and so I shall avoid funerals, even my own.
— the late, great Chuck Berry
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Spending so much time in the outdoors this year, it's easier to notice the constant change taking place on the micro level. Different varieties of flowers existing in various stages of life, depending on the week and the altitude they're at. The subtle shift of the sun and the moon, as daylight gets shorter with each coming evening. Rivers continue to lower and lake temperatures are now easy to bathe in. Just this past week, a marked change in the tones of the birdsong I awaken with each morning. For the past week, these mornings have required a sweater until the sun has a chance to shine down it's warmth.

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On a larger scale, the change in those I'm close to is just as apparent. Over the past month or two, two close friends have wandered further down their individual paths - headed in directions away from the present, away from the current, away from me. By spending more time with family recently, the gradual change in everyone is powerfully clear. Characters transform and evolve, bodies collect wear and tear.

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Moments in time, memories of people and places - figments of individual perspectives, becoming more outdated by the second. I'll never climb the same mountain, cross the same river, nor breathe the same air twice. Friends, loved ones, relationships that I'll never know again - moments only to be experienced once.

These reminders drive the thirst for each and every day; they dictate the only manner in which this life must be spent.