Saturday night, we changed our clocks. Daylight Saving Time in Europe is two weeks after the “spring ahead” in the United States. In Europe, “summertime hours” was standardized in 1996 versus the US counterpart which dates back to World War I.
Truly, I find pleasure in this change. The lingering evening hours are often spent in the garden, sometime just tinkering with one plant or another. Sunday, it brought a burst of energy that motivated both of us to tackle new projects and work until the fading light. Lunch was the sole interruption: our first bar-be-que of the season. Surprised, we walked into the house close to 9 PM, slightly sunburned, covered in dirt, and exhausted, but highly satisfied with what we accomplished.
Perhaps it’s the change of temperature, and not just the change of time that propels this momentum to get things accomplished, but the extra evening hours are a positive change. It only seems to compel me to throw the windows open, run outside, and do something that, at the end of the day, I can look at with my dirt covered hands and feel like I’ve made a change for the better. The next day, I want to feel my stiff muscles creek a bit as I crawl out of bed, knowing the stiffness comes from labor, and not just from sitting around. I want my muscles to slowly find the rhythm of the day spent outside working and merit the calm evening of a glass of wine while dozing in front of the television. I like the change of time, the change of rhythm of living with the seasons and finding pleasure in what new season brings.
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