Into My Eighth Decade

Arching across the sky in my chariot of years, the last remnants of middle-age stream behind. Closest are the silken greys of my sixties, lightly flecked with gold. Following are the pale blues and greens of my fifties, memories of verdant years. Tailing off are whispers of my forties, their expansive colors faded and frayed from the journey.

Into my eighth decade, I pierce clouds of new cloth. Warm tones become even more scarce, and white, the color of shrouds, begins to show. The gauze of old age, and its portent of the final wrap, start to adhere. My eighties await.

Notes:

I have frequently explored transitions in my life through photography; my entry into motherhood in my thirties, transitioning into middle age at fifty, and now facing old age at the end of my seventies. I shot the image above with my phone. It was taken about four years ago after I let my hair go white.