As I entered middle age, I re-discovered spring. Up until about my 50th year, spring was only the wet, muddy season between winter and summer. But I began to notice how the bushes and flowers and trees broke out into blossom in the same sequence every year, how the birds behaved. Spring, with its promise of renewal, was a great gift to an aging man. But I still loved fall.
Now, in my sixties, I notice the cold more. And my muscles all tense up as the weather changes. I don't have all that energy any more, and I get sluggish as the daylight shrinks. How long is it till spring? What a topsy-turvy world we live in, to be sure.