On this bright spring morning of birdsong, rushing water, leafbuds and smiling flowers, I found myself thinking, 'How sad it must be to die in winter, knowing you will never see another spring'.
But then how sad to see spring if you knew that was it and you would never see the explosion of joy and delight and life that is high summer. And who wouldn't want one last autumn experience of glorious leaves, harvest home, woodsmoke and misty mornings? Or indeed the beauty of a frost-jewelled, snuggled-round-the-hearth-fire-with-loved-ones midwinter?
Never wanting to leave the party for fear of missing something, when would be the ideal time to bow out? Given the choice, I suspect many of us never would. Perhaps it's best then, that most of us don't have the choice, or even the foreknowledge of when.
Perhaps with the human instinct to look forward to what's coming next, the best idea is to see the end of this life not as a full stop, but as a step forward on the next great adventure. We may be leaving behind daffodils and swallows and sea urchins and elephants and picnics in the park - and I for one will miss them all greatly. But when it's time to peek around the next corner, I'm curious to see what's there too.
And if it should turn out that there is nothing round that final corner after all, well - hasn't it been an amazing and beautiful party?
I hope I'll see a good few more seasons yet. But just in case this should be my last spring, I'm going to drink in and savour every last delicious drop.
It really is a most beautiful morning. I hope yours is too.