Weathered and flaking,
Bits of self falling away,
I feel so much like how this tree looks. Weathered, flaking, cracked and peeling but also beautiful in an interesting way. As much as I would sometimes love to wish away the visible signs of aging, I would also want to keep the laugh lines and the scars, for those are the index of my life stories. Not a few adventures, some misadventures, more than a little laughter, too much time spent in the sun, these are what I try to focus on when I look in the mirror. The wear and tear that formed my character, for better or worse. I am not a lily, nor a rose, but hopefully I am as interesting as this birch tree.