I often wonder what I would be thinking about sitting on a bench and growing old. I mean growing old as in "beyond retirement". Will there be noisy grandchildren with plastic RayGuns in the background? A smiling and rimpled wife holding my rimpled hand while she's feeding crumples of bread to the ducks with her other hand. Or maybe it's just me. An old man, a bench, lots of clouds and lots of memories. I wouldn't mind growing old, as long as those giant clouds are there to tower over my little head filled with all this little memories to keep me in perspective. Yup, and old man and his bench, that's all it takes to grow old properly...