The atomic number of silver. The fifteenth prime number. The number of years it takes for Mars to return to the same relative position in the stars. An easter egg hiding in throughout the various iterations of Star Trek. The country calling code for Norway. The number of Ronin in the Ako incident. Part of identifiers for a rifle, helicopter, and fighter plane. The Tropic of Cancer and the Tropic of Capricorn are forty-seven degrees apart.
These are not mere observations, but a studied review. I am not a numerologist nor do I care to explore that avenue. Forty-seven is merely a number that strikes me as notable today. It marks another year around the sun, a symbolic threshold that I cross. Ultimately it is little more than a number, an identifier of quantity or relative time.
As with most years, it will pass by quickly and quietly and by design. I don’t recall the first few times and, beyond a certain point, they stopped concerning me at all. Forty-seven times it has occurred and, perhaps, it will occur forty-seven more. However many remain, I hope to share each day living, loving, and creating.
What lies ahead? More of the same but hopefully with a bit more gusto. I found my stride few years ago and promptly planted my face in the mud with a rather lame attempt at dying. Having happily failed that, I have struggled to get back on track. In the past three years, I have accomplished more in terms of photography than I had in ten years prior. I hope to push even harder over the next three but we shall see.
There is much in the immediate future that lies in shadow. There have been a legion of changes over the past year and there promises to be even more in the short term. I will find my footing and brace myself yet again. Hopefully, somewhere along this winding path, we will meet and build something that is unique to our intertwined creativity.
Until then, love one another as if every day matters, because it does.