The poets often divide our lifetimes into seasons. That 14-year-old living next door who’s always hammering the driveway with a basketball is in the springtime of youth, while the retiree across the street who spends her mornings gardening is in her autumn years.
The terms “summer years” and “winter years” are used less frequently to reference the human lifespan. Most commentators consider the early 20s to the mid-60s as the summertime of life. Meanwhile, those aged 80 and older are in wintertime, which is described by one online writer as those “years of true wisdom when we know what truly matters and have let go of the rest.” It’s a sweet sentiment intended to encourage the rest of us—although, given what some elderly friends have told me, what “truly matters” to many wintertime people is the location of the nearest restroom when away from home.
