I heard Joni Mitchell's song The Circle Game the other day and it made me think about my Bea and growing up and seasons of life and all that big stuff. 
 
She's ready to move on and ready to be an adult. She's full of ideas, wants to be taken seriously, wants to do things her own way. All the natural things that she is meant to long for.
 
I guess it feels strange when you get to the age of 50 and you can see your child's whole life – you can practically hold the blur of it all in your hands. And when I look back I see the sweet things more than the tough moments. You can't pause it you can only hang on as it goes round and round and round.
 
So there she is smiling her best smile at 12:02 am on January first, 2025. She's smiling because she just met some German students and she chatted with them on the top of a hill in Bilbao, Spain. Starting 2025 like she means to start her life.
 
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The Circle Game

by Joni Mitchell

Yesterday a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star

Then the child moved ten times round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like when you're older must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
Cartwheels turn to car wheels thru the town
And they tell him take your time it won't be long now
Till you drag your feet to slow the circles down

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
There'll be new dreams maybe better dreams and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

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Also, they had a beautiful carousel in San Sebastian. I wanted to ride in the swan but I was too big. 

/comm

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