I joined my brother and sister-in-law for my first winter golf, whatever that means. Isn’t it autumn now?
Anyway, bundled up in fleece and waterproofs, I looked like a stumpy black garbage bag walking on manicured greens swish swash as the plasticky material rubbed against each other.
Fresh air, cold wind, sweet geosmin, ahh .. it’s hard to find the words to describe the wonderful feeling of being outdoors in autumn. The fall colours of the trees and the ground. In the distance. Beneath my feet.
Met a gentleman and his friend, both in the 70s looking like sages, talking about bypasses and stents. We walked together for about four hours, taking our time to complete the course.
Golf has added quality to his life, the gent claimed. He only started about 15 years ago when he turned 60. The game is his medicine. Being out, meeting people is his therapy. He could have been worse off or dead by now if not for the regular walking.
Suddenly I feel healthier and stronger. In fact I feel like the youngest person around. It’s nice to be around older people. They certainly make you feel young. Here I go again. Talking about feeling young almost as if I’m reminding myself that I’m getting old. It’s like the state of drunkenness.
But honestly I do admire older people who makes the best of their time, whatever that’s left for them. Age does not prevent anyone from enjoying or stop anyone from trying to do something new, even when others think of you as old.
It doesn’t matter. Learning is ageless, so is having a good time.