This morning I’ve met with a group of old friends to have a coffee and chat a little about whatever was going on in our lives. But they only wanted to gossip about funerals, deceased people, illness and things like that. I tried to talk about other happier subjects, but they always came back to the gloomy topic of the dead and sick. I know I’m growing old. But I refuse to enter in that phase of the life in which the only horizon is the obituaries page of the newspaper and the funeral home. I know my mood is often gloomy because of my depression, and a conversation like the one we had this morning discourages me a lot. But I also know I’m still full of life. I don’t need meetings like today’s. I need seeing my younger friends, with interesting ideas to talk about. Fortunately when I was coming back home, I found my way cut by a cyclist race. I stayed for a while watching at the cyclists. I took some pictures, and my mood lifted.