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Winding Down

Who at my age has ten thousand hours?

I have been posting photos and text for several years.  When I  started this blog in August of 2018 I chose the name “My Strange Life” as a homage the a line in the Grateful Dead song Truckin’.

Sometimes the light’s all shinin’ on me,
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me what a long, strange trip it’s been.

However I discovered that topics of my postings would not be considered strange.  What I am writing about is my life, the past, present and future.

I’ve arrived at an age that most of my life is behind me,  and with the benefit of retirement I have the time to chronicle it and reflect on what it all means. I asked a friend for a suitable title for this blog and he mentioned “Winding Down”.  The blog formerly known as “My Strange Life” is now called “Winding Down”.

Nature reclaims the parking area at Annett State Park
Nature reclaims the parking area at Annett State Park, as it will someday reclaim me

Do not go gentle into that good night

Dylan Thomas1914 – 1953

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

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