I saw the lovely arch Of rainbow span the sky, The gold sun burning As the rain swept by.

Today I walked on the lion-coloured hills with only cypresses for company, until the sunset caught me, turned the brush to copper set the clouds to one great roof of flame above the earth, so that I walk through fire, beneath fire, and all in beauty. Being alone I could not be alone, but felt (closer than flesh) the presence of those who once had burned in such transfigurations. My happiness ran through the centuries in one continual brightness. Looking down, I saw the earth beneath me like a rose petaled with mountains, fragrant with deep peace.

During much of my life, I was anxious to be what someone else wanted me to be. Now I have given up that struggle. I am what I am.

Outwardly I am 83, but inwardly I am every age, with the emotions and experience of each period.

No wonder the tulip is the patron flower of Holland. Looking at it one almost smells fresh paint laid on in generous brilliance: doors, blinds, whole houses, canal boats, pails, farm wagons - all painted in greens, blues, reds, pinks, yellows.

When I dream, I am ageless.

People don't feel so quarrelsome in warm weather. They get crotchety in the fall and begin to go to law about things after the first hard frosts.