Looking at Nathalie Beaumes photo, Winter Stars, made me think of poetry. So I idly googled "Winter Stars poems". I found this one, entitled Winter Stars,  by Larry Levis. The part about his father's physical and mental  decline really moves me. I was so lucky to be able to spend time with my Dad at the end of his life. It was difficult and frustrating for both of us to communicate, but I remember one day in particular that was especially beautiful. At that point in time Dad was almost entirely home bound. He'd lost his balance and a great deal of his language. One his favorite things to do was to be taken for a  ride in his golf cart around the lake community where he and Mom have spent their summers for  forty some years. He always made sure he had his reacher grabber tool so he could pick up trash along the way. If he missed it on the first pass, we had to back up and try again. We rode around for awhile stopped and talked to a couple of his friends and then I asked Dad where he'd like to go next. And of course he chose to go down to the lake. It was still jacket weather, early spring, one of those beautiful sun glorious spring days. We stopped when we saw an enormous turtle sunbathing on the sand. I gave it a closer examination  and it didn't seem alarmed by my presence. Dad said it didn't look like a snapper so I asked him if he thought I could pick it up.  He seemed amused that I would even want to. The edges of the turtles shell were flexible and it was pretty heavy. I flipped it over to see the plastron, but it made me feel sad to see its little turtle legs paddling helplessly so I carried it down to the water. It took a couple of stumbling clumsy lunges and then shot off like a submersible rocket ship. So, now the image of the turtle is eternally linked in my mind to Dad, and the bittersweet beauty of that time.