I looked up just in time this morning to notice today is the first day of fall.

Did I completely miss summer? What about spring? Did I sleep through that season, too?

Someone once told me the reason years (and, eventually, decades) go by so quickly, the older we get, is that the older we get, the smaller a percentage of our lives one year represents.

Remember when you were a kid, and you couldn’t wait for Christmas to get here — even when it was a few weeks away? And how, when you were 5, it seemed like it took forEVER for kindergarten to start? That’s because when you were the age you started school, a year represented 20 percent (or one-fifth, for those of you who prefer fractions) of your life.

Presently, I am 43 years old. A single year represents just 2.3255813953488372093023255813953 percent of my life so far. (I thought about rounding, but instead decided to utilize the “copy” and “paste” features of my computer’s calculator; oh, and for the record, I started to figure the number “longhand” but gave up after getting as far as 2.3255.)

No wonder years go by in a blink nowadays; in fact, I’m having trouble remembering most of the 1990s!

On a more positive note: Wouldn’t the start of a new season be The Perfect Time to rededicate myself to my creative pursuits? I started to feel a pang of regret this morning over not having taken more outdoorsy photos this summer. My trips to the lake have been rare; I could blame ridiculously high gas prices and the fact that some of the access areas didn’t open at their usual times (and, now, are already closed for the year), but those are only a couple of the reasons.

Yeah, I’m a slacker. And I continue to be a bit unfocused. Not in a bad way, though … simply in a way that allows me to get distracted by the various stuff that might happen (or not) throughout any given day … which, obviously, makes up a smaller and smaller percentage of my life with every hour that passes!

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