I'm wrong, though. There isn't more where that came from. This is the time to treasure. This time, this present, this now. The days when the children were small and fit in my lap are already gone, as if in the blink of an eye. The years flow by in a stream, but it's not endless; it's not ever-lasting...at least not for us. We dip our toes in, dive under, come up gasping. The current has moved us downstream by a month before we've caught our breath. Downstream to the end of a year before we've managed to haul ourselves dripping up into the light.
Do you know where time goes? It wrinkles up under your skin. Winkles into your pores, sinks into your joints and loosens some things and tightens others. It pulls parts of you down. It sloughs and sheds and contradictorily eases, into your very bones. It becomes a part of you but it's not yours to keep.
Beautiful! Strawberry Flower (and there's so much more!)