From Dawn to Dusk

For most of October, I’ve been waking up and walking in the dark.

That is to say, the walks that my wife and I do every Tuesday and Thursday morning start out and continue for a bit in the dark. We can see enough to know where we’re going – there are porch lights here and there, and the occasional car headlight in our direction to see by. Mostly it’s just the two of us going through our pre-memorized route in the dark. (I know where the big crack in the sidewalk is, thanks to my wife’s unfortunate experience with it almost a year ago.)

Day by day, it’s gotten darker and darker every week.

Which brings us to this past Sunday, and the changing of the time. Which meant that this past Tuesday, my wife and I were able to finish our walk and enjoy something we had been missing for the last couple of weeks.

We were able to enjoy the dawn.

Granted, it wasn’t much of a dawn. But still, it was there.

And that’s enough for me.

There’s something nice about walking in the dark, for sure. It’s quiet, and peaceful, and you don’t have to worry about anybody trying to bother you about anything. It’s just me and my wife, and the chance to talk about whatever we want to – be it this past week or what’s coming up next week or just hopes and dreams. But there’s something better about walking in the morning as it begins to become light. There’s something special about starting a walk in the dark and ending it with the sun coming up and painting the trees and houses with color.

It makes you feel like you were there when the day began.

On the flip side, of course, there was the end of the day to consider. And it arrived in full on Monday, at around 5 o’clock.

I walked outside my office, looked west, saw the sun on the horizon, the parking lot washed in blue-gray, and knew I needed to turn on my headlights to drive home. When I got there, it was as if the day had ended, and the night had begun.

It’s the deal with daylight savings time. I get a little more time in the morning, so I have to give it back in the evening. And every year, I forget that’s part of the deal.

On another note, I have to say that the weather this fall has been killer.

Killer in the sense that it has been cut short, seemingly far too quickly, that brief period every year when you can get away with wearing a sweatshirt and shorts. I loved those days.

But those days, it seems, have become shorter and shorter – lasting no more than two weeks this fall – and now it’s become cold enough in the mornings that I’ve had to bring out the quarter-zips for work. (Yes, I’m a quarter-zip kind of guy.)

So that pretty much sums up my week.

Now, nothing I’ve talked about this week is new. All of it happens every year. But what strikes me is how brief it all is. The time we have to enjoy these parts of the year is short. And all too often, we don’t enjoy them at all.

This week, I enjoyed both ends of the day twice thanks to the time change.

I didn’t plan it, but I’m glad it happened.

As the days get colder and I’ll be forced to gear up more and more for my morning walks, and as the winter months draw near, I’ll have to be thankful for the little bit of light I do get at both ends of my day.

And I will, because those moments only happen once each day.

Be seeing you.