Perspective 101, A Prerequisite For The Golden Years

Bobbie and I decided on a stroll from home, up Camp Bird Road. It's one of our favorite "walks." You wouldn't believe how different it appears... now from just two weeks ago.  Corrals of aspen trees pop from spruce forests, glowing like five hundred watt candles.

Reverting to the selfish brat in a supermarket checkout line... the one that exists in all of us... I remarked that I wished I could freeze time, or at least, slow it down. I don't want what I know is coming to come. I want what I have now, which is crisp mornings, mid sixties afternoons, a full radiant sun in the bluest of sky, and the seasonal sensory kaleidoscope that dances a jig on every single receptor in my body.   

All of a sudden, Mick Jagger is struttin' and whailin' in my head, "You can't always get what you want... but if you try sometimes... well you just might find... you get what you need." 

He's right, you know... although, I suspect Mick Jagger and others like him do get whatever they want. The rest of us eventually find ways to fulfill our "dreams," or, at least a reasonable and acceptable facsimile of them if we can manage to put the little supermarket brat back in his cage where he belongs. So the brand new five-slide motorhome gets downsized to a used class C... or maybe even so far as a little 7 by 18 foot pop-up Chalet on wheels. But here's the thing, if we analyze our "dream" like good little Sigmunds, we "just might find" that it isn't the "rig" or the "wealth" we really dream about, it's the "life," the freedom to wander the wests offerings to our little hearts content. 

And as with Autumn's brevity, the details of our dreams often get compromised. No, "you can't always get what you want... but if you try sometimes... well you just might find... you get what you need."  It's not "settling" for less, necessarily, it's negotiating with our reality. So the Golden Years turn out to be Silver, or even Bronze... at least we made it to "the games," and we are not spectators, we are participants. Sure, the little supermarket brat in all of us wants a King Sized Snickers Bar, but that box of Tic Tacs... well, they're pretty good too. 
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Ah, I see the sun finally cleared the ring of mountains to the east, above the Amphitheater. It beams warmth into The Crevice that I must take advantage of, for it dwindles on ever shortening days of fall. Goldie awaits attention to matters of batteries. She shall have four, in all... if I can but squeeze them into her slender belly. I'm afraid the Onan generator must go in order to make room for all the ion storage. Our little Honda 2000 will suffice... which means we won't be able to run the air conditioner while boondocking (like I care about sitting indoors during the daytime, anyway). 

Let me know if you are interested in a newly rebuilt Onan... I'll make you a deal.
Now let's wander up Camp Bird Road...