Funny Things Happen on the Way to Growing Old

By John A. Lynch '44

Some days I lie in my hammock listening to the grass grow or watching the trees leaf out or the flowers bloom. Birds call and insects scratch on the bark of red pines, and in the cerulean sky above there are no airplanes or helicopters, only puffy, drifting clouds shaped like rabbits and bears and medieval castles, and far, far off, from ocean to ocean, a colorful freed balloon sails on. Until tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.…

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