Give and Take

As the alarm went off one recent morning, I realized that waking up at 6:00 a.m. is so different today than it was just a few months ago. Now, it feels as if I'm forcing myself to get up bleary-eyed in the middle of the dark night, rather than enthusiastically jumping out of bed with the sunshine streaming through the bedroom window, the birds singing a cheerful "good morning" and the day welcoming me to get up and go. When glancing at the clock at 7:00 p.m. at this time of year, the darkness envelops me, leaving me with a feeling that the day is done and my pajamas and reading chair are calling to me. Just a few months ago, 7:00 p.m. was considered early evening with at least one, maybe two hours of daylight left, leaving time for so much possibility and an abundance of energy that wouldn't wane until nightfall. The seasons have been shifting and I have been grieving it. One gray Sunday afternoon, I sat quietly just to let myself examine why I felt such profound grief and soon my perspective, my grief over the waning daylight started to change. As I explored the ever-evolving balance of dark and light, I saw that in many ways, it was simply another time of give and take. One must have the darkness in order to appreciate the light. Too much light would rob me of the quiet, introspective and renewing benefits of darkness. Too much darkness and I would lack the energy that the sun and daylight provide. So, with this renewed perspective, as the season shifts from one of abundant daylight to one of increased darkness, I am seeing the blessings in the shift. As much as I am one who loves the energy of the daylight, I am welcoming the arrival of increasing darkness. Both are interdependent and necessary and beautiful and I am content to be bathed in both.

A Step Forward

You wouldn't know it by the temperature or the mounds of snow outside our window, but we've taken a step forward today.  It's Daylight Savings Time again.  And oh, how we need a sign of spring!  To be able to turn the clocks forward by one hour gives us that precious added daylight at the end of the work day.  We'll begin our evening walks again, just as soon as it isn't too icy. I have only one walking pace and it's at a fast clip. I need ice-free sidewalks or I'll simply wait until I get them. Two years ago, March was so balmy that I recall wearing a denim skirt without pantyhose to a St. Patrick's Day concert.  I knew it was dreadfully wrong to have such warm weather so soon, but I couldn't help but love every moment. This year, given the interminable nature of our winter, I'll take any sign I can get.  And signs there are.  Looking out of our kitchen window the other day, I could see buds on a tree in the distance.  Even when it's been cold and snowing, the birds have been singing gaily.  The sky has a different look, now that we're moving toward the vernal equinox. Spring is really coming.  The clock has told me so.

The Changing of the Clocks

Daylight Savings Time officially ended today and, as usual, I'm grieving the loss of light, yet ready to cocoon.  Next to my reading chair are four library books and five magazines.  All I need to do now is to make time to nestle in with them.  But on these last days before -- and even after -- we changed the clocks, I could only find reasons to be outside and soak up that precious daylight.  It didn't matter if the skies were sunny or gray, if the wind picked up, if it drizzled or if the temperature was raw.  All I wanted was to be outside.  And I wasn't disappointed on any of my outside adventures.  The early days of November have a loveliness all of their own.  The air is filled with the heady scent of drying and decaying of vegetation, the sky is expansive and beautiful, a few remaining yellow maple leaves still glisten in the sun, and the birds still sing.  While I will always be a creature that loves the long days that spring and summer offer, the changing of the clocks has ushered in a new time that is filled with blessings, as well, including those four books and five magazines just waiting for me to sit down a spell and enjoy.

Plunged

We are once again plunged into darkness.  Today marked the official end of Daylight Savings Time for this year.  I now will wake up in darkness and come home from work in darkness.  Although daylight has been shrinking for the past few months, as always, this day comes as a surprise to me.  I can see why the early native peoples watched the moon and the sun and celebrated the Winter Solstice, grateful for the return of light.  Till this year's Winter Solstice takes place next month, I will hunker down in my own hibernating state.  There'll be soup to make, books to read and activities planned to prevent cabin fever.  Although I'd much prefer the light, now's the time to embrace the darkness and the slowing down that nature invites us all to do.

Darkness Cometh

It's that time of year again when Daylight Savings Time ends.  For a brief period after we turn the clocks back, I'll awaken to daylight and leave work in darkness, but soon I'll wake up to the dark, as well.  The days will grow shorter and shorter until we reach the Winter Solstice in mid-December.  As Mom's favorite author, Gladys Taber, wrote in Stillmeadow Calendar (J.B. Lippincott Company, 1967), "I really prefer the long summer days, for I love light with a passion."  Like Mrs. Taber, I, too, want my days brimming with sunlight.  My favorite days are the sparkling ones in May and June when there's more daylight than I know what to do with.  I awaken early at that time of year to a morning that feels as if it's already begun without me and I linger outside as long as I can to soak up that last glow before the sun sets. For now, however, I must flow with the rhythm of the seasons, be one with the positions of the planet and sun, and get used to the darkness once again.  I'll be dancing on the Winter Solstice, however!