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60 is the old 90

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60 years ago, after an 8 hour lull, my mother went into labour and this time I made an appearance - it was 4:00am. I remember it well. Not. I remember the birth at home of my own son 36 years later.
I feel this one far more than 40 or 50. 60 feels like the end of term, like the turning the corner having dragged my way around the 400m on my hands and knees. No. It hasn't been that bad. I have my health, marriage, children, mortgage paid, friends, projects, work.
Each generation creates its own perspective on what has gone before; mine is birth, 30, 60 and death. Think of the profile of a marquee - up to the first mast (30), the long stretch across to the second mast (60) then the drop back to earth. The angle of ascent and descent can vary; I still don't know if it will be precipitous. I feel that I could knock in another mast to take me up to 70. This would require a change of scene - or would it. Maybe just greater focus on the things that matter: the environment, people's health and well being ... 
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