It was spring time. Unlike other trees this one shed leaves through the year. As time passed, the older leaves made way for the new. Bright Green tenderlings born yesterday in awe of the world, mocking in gay abandon at the older leaves that had browned with age, as they floated through the air before striking earth and incinerated at the yard.
People were writing me off as Old and past my Prime when I was in fact at the height of my Powers. The first warning came when I boarded the local Bus, and was offered a seat meant for Senior Citizens. Since then things have been getting worse. Attractive young ladies I meet at parties, with whom I imagine I could develop an interesting conversation, offer me their seat and choose to walk in another direction. Retirement dominates the conversation when I meet an acquaintance.
The trouble is that the malignant influence of being old makes you realize that working life is all too finite, with establishments striving to lower the average age of their staff, by getting rid of the oldies.
As an Engineer with a brilliant track record, I have been pushed into early retirement. The ravages of age have relegated me to the second division. I see no solace in being replaced by a candidate from the third division. Why are we so besotted by youth? For many of us oldies, Experience compensates for any decline in Vigour.
While those who wish to retire should be allowed to do so, the rest of us should be allowed to continue to be useful members of society and not set on a trajectory into the dark realms of outer space, armed with a subscription of the daily Times and the Annual Christmas Card.