Here's my last post for the "Solitary" challenge of the Daily post on wordpress.com. In my previous posts I explained how I purposefully create a feeling of solitude and isolation in some of my photos. But for this last post I wanted to share real solitude I encountered and photographed.
There seems to be no greater solitude than old age. Eventually all those you know slowly disappear and even their thoughts and memories eventually vanish. If it is true that we measure ourselves through others, does this mean that as our age progresses, we also lose who we are?
I observed this old man, bent over with the weight of his age, as he clutched his wristwatch in his hand, and I had to wonder what was the meaning of time for him at that point in his life. His hat slipping away from his ancient hand was the last vestige of his former self. Was he ready to leave? Was he eager to arrive? Looking at him I saw what age does to the physical body, but I couldn't guess about his mind. Perhaps it's a secret you will only find when you get there. Only if you earn it, that is. When I finally stand in his shoes, I hope I will have no regrets.