Starlight

I never dreamed I would become a fan of creams and lotions. But I have. My aging skin is thinning, and doing what old skin does. But I have an ancient influencer known as a doctor, a dermatologist, one who specializes in skin care, and she has recommended treatments, based on science, I assume. I follow them as best I can, especially when the north wind blows and the air dries out and my skin dries out even more and the itching comes. It’s a torment.

But I am surviving and soon I will go see this doctor for my annual visit and she will examine me for odd growths and rough patches. The easy ones will be frozen into oblivion. The serious ones will be cut, and I will be sent on my way to see what develops over the next year. Meanwhile, I’ll try to stay out of the sun and curse the days when I thought sun worship was the thing to do, but I’m here to tell you that once upon a time, I had a tan that I cultivated, because I didn’t want to blind people with my whiteness at the beach when I took off my shirt.

Now days I’ m into long sleeve shirts, long pants, and big floppy hats. The sun damage has been done, but there’s no sense pushing my luck. I like the sun for what it does for the trees and plants, the way it lights the clouds and the land, and the feeling I get when it warms me on a cold day, but otherwise I prefer looking at it from a distance, marveling at the happenstance that found it at just the right distance from our planet to make it possible for life to form and flourish in the light of a star burning with a fury and forces most of us can hardly imagine.