The ‘time change’ as we call it, either fall-ing back an hour or spring-ing forward an hour, aggravates a good many people, to put it nicely. Here in New England, the suddenly early sundown has provoked a stronger than usual level of kvetching about winter.
We did have an intense amount of snow last year and it wasn’t all fun and snowmen for most of us. Call me an optimist or a woman in denial, but I tell myself: ‘What are the odds of another bad winter? Two in a row?’
Time will tell, I guess. Anyway, I want to acknowledge those for whom the recent time change has been difficult. But I have to report that I experienced a spark of joy this morning, thanks to the change.
At seven o’clock, which just last week was 8:00 AM, the sun comes right in the window at the head of our bed. Waking up with that sparkle on my head and shoulders was a magnificent way to start the day.
Then one of the cats came to visit, a fairly reliable source of joy, with her purring and silky fur. I chose to overlook the shedded fur that drifted down onto my face and pillowcase, a small price to pay for feline affection.
My morning triumvirate of sparkles was complete when my young adult daughter, heading out for a day working as a movie ‘extra’, tells me she will vote on her way out of town. Pride sparkled inside me.