"At one time in his life, that old man looked just like those babies."
I am fascinated with the human face; I love studying it and drawing it. Like snowflakes or fingerprints, no two faces are the same, although some faces can be similar. Even with identical twins there is always a dissimilarity -- however small -- to make them distinct. The human face undergoes several transitions as it moves from infancy to old age. In just 80 or so revolutions around the sun -- not very many in the scheme of things -- the human face changes from the picture on the left to the picture on the right. And in their own way, both faces are beautiful. The picture on the right is a painting by Rembrandt, and he certainly recognized the beauty in the old man's face.
I sometimes look at Phinnaeus and Marigold and imagine what they will look like as adults. They are starting now to take on some of the characteristics of adult faces. Of course, they both have beautiful faces, but time will make its imprint, just as it does on everyone. I hope the inevitable lines in their faces will be laugh lines and not frown lines, and that their eyes will stay bright with the intellectual curiosity they have now.
As I sat looking at the very old gentleman sitting between the two cherubic babies, it occurred to me that, at another place in time, the old man is a little boy, running through a field on a warm summer afternoon.
On winding lakes and rivers wide,
That ask no aid of sail or oar,
That fear no spite of wind or tide!
Nought cared this body for wind or weather
When Youth and I lived in't together.
... Samuel Taylor Coleridge