Turning...

Honestly, one of the things that I looked forward to when I moved back to the Midwest were the more clearly defined seasons. Yes, there were colorful trees there, but the green-ness 12 months of the was confusing for a person who was used to more definite seasons than Baseball, football, etc.

So I went looking this weekend, and found that it is too early, even though I went "north" to as far a way as Crosby, which is, as a friend pointed out, right next to Ironton. And found barely anything. The weather is turning crisper, which is good. It had been a very warm summer. Instead of constant color, I found trees just turning and in transition.

Not unlike me, I guess. I turned 50 today, a milestone of some sort, I guess. One friend who is a decade younger and always will be, pointed out that 50 is really old. My response was, and I do believe this, is that I have never equated a numerical age with growing up or a maturity, so this is an easier day than I thought it might be...you hear these stories. I am not holed up with my shades drawn on my couch with a 5 liter box of wine, for example, and I hardly wince when AARP tries to send me their silver card with all its benefits. I made it up my 21 steps to my home twice today, and never once used the chair ramp. Yes, I know the analogies: Leaves fall, the autumn of my life, and so on and so forth. But I also hear that 50 is the new 40 or even the new 35 or 38 or so, and I am untroubled.

Yes, today is basically just another day, though lots of birthday wishes via Facebook and texting made it nice as did a few other touches. Thanks to all those who helped me turn.