Treatment

Several years ago, shortly after moving to the Village, advice from a veteran bird-watcher added to my knowledge about the human physiology of aging. According to the advisor, changes in the retina and optic nerve diminishes the clarity of vision in low light. In addition, he said, one’s pupils may shrink and become slower to adjust to changes in the intensity of light. This education about reduced quality of vision associated with aging took place in connection with a session on selecting binoculars, part of a bird-watching workshop. The workshop was part of a days-long course on bird identification. I have forgotten most of what I learned about identifying birds; but the relationship between aging and the reduction in the quality and clarity of eyesight remains etched in my brain. Perhaps that revelation accompanied my real-world experience at the time—a noticeable reduction in the sharpness of my vision in low light. Recently, I have experienced another noticeable change in my vision; when reading text on my smart phone—in low light—the reduction in the quality of my vision remains, even after I introduce more light to my environment. Only after resting my eyes for a while does my vision return to “normal,” which is considerably “abnormal” compared to a few years ago. Reliable eyesight is one of many aspects of youth that may fall victim to battles with advancing age. Time brings with it the inevitable surrender to forces of decline and decay.

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Before it is exposed to the heat of flame, a cone of incense is dark and hard and solid. While it smolders, the smoke that rises from it forms pleasing shapes. The smoke quickly dissipates into shapeless vapor, filling the air with a pleasing scent. Once the source of the smoke from the ember is exhausted, the cone is no longer dark and hard and solid. Though its shape remains exactly the same as it was, its color is lighter. The cone has become nothing but fine, powdery ash, its strength and solidity transformed into a vaporous replica. The bulk of its substance has been dispersed into smoke that can never be reclaimed to re-create its previous form.

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Suspects
He had driven into the park, ignoring the “Park Closed for the Season” signs at the entrance. The chain across the road, blocking entry, did not dissuade him. Carlisle Carmichael’s bolt cutters dispensed with the obstacle in a matter of seconds. He continued to the highest observation point and parked at the edge of a cliff. Beyond the edge was space; four hundred feet empty air down to the base, where piles of huge boulders hid the sandy surface beneath. After an hour of searching, he found the entrance to a cave, hidden by a scattering of boulders and brush. He made his way back to the vehicle, reached in and slid its gear shift into neutral, and went to the back of the car. He pushed it forward, past the cliff’s edge. The sound of the car smashing into the rocks below was loud, but no one but Carmichael heard it. After returning to the cave he had found earlier, he crawled inside and made himself as comfortable as he could on a bare rock surface. He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a plastic bag full of white tablets. In a bid to reclaim what little was left of his independence, Carlisle Carmichael swallowed a fistful of barbiturates, one tablet at a time.

Six months afterward, park rangers discovered the battered car. Two months later, a couple of spelunkers came across a decomposing body in the cave where Carmichael went to rest. Having already identified the car’s registered owner, rangers assumed the body was Carmichael’s. The county coroner quickly corrected their assumption. “This woman was in her early thirties,” she announced. “The garrote around her neck suggests her death was not accidental.” Suspicion immediately fell on the rangers who discovered the body. Within weeks, both of them vanished, only to resurface in Istanbul months later, carrying counterfeit passports; one of them belonging to Carlisle Carmichael.

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Soon, I will wander into the oncologist’s office, seeking treatment for whatever ails me.