I often think it’s true. I march into a room with every intention of collecting some much needed item and then I stop and wonder. My mind is blank. What was I going to get? If it’s so important why can’t I remember what it is? What have I lost?
I retrace my steps to my previous location in the vain hope this will jog this failing memory. Yeah nah – that didn’t work. I start to worry that I’m really losing my marbles. Is this the first sign that aging is catching up with me?
Apart from the arthritic knees and streaks of grey hair, I usually pride myself on still being switched on in the cognitive department. I cease trying to remember, take a few deep breaths and re-enter the room. I spy them immediately.
My marbles are right there where I left them. In the bottom of that glass. It’s such fun trying to capture images of their splashes with my camera and flash.
I sigh with relief as I reassure myself that photography is such an excellent way to keep these mental muscles active.
I’ll just linger here in my makeshift photography studio and play with my marbles.