Thanks to those who read Age- a ramble . It was not meant to imply that I was feeling old. Let’s face it: we are all getting older at the rate of 60s/ min.
I don’t want to labour the point, but I forgot that I had meant to add a lyric by the late Leonard Cohen:
“Well, my friends are gone and my hair is grey. I ache in the places where I used to play.” (Tower of Song)
How could you better that? Well, perhaps you could match it with T.S. Eliot:
“I grow old . . . I grow old . . . / I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.” (The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock)
Any excuse for photos and mention of these two.