The First Day

Oh, how I could wax poetic about my love/hate thing with daylight saving time. In the least, it feels like- to me- quite an antiquated, inconvenient tradition, and there have been seasons when I'd just like to plain pack up and move to Arizona or Hawaii! However, it does help call our attention to a process that might otherwise go unnoticed in its subtlety- the lengthening (or shortening) of days.

Long gone are the generations wherein the majority of peoples' livelihoods depended on attention to this process. Quite honestly, we are so over-scheduled these days, it doesn't matter when the sun rises, you've gotta be where you've gotta be, so to speak (we're no exception!).

I guess daylight saving time is easier than building a Stonehenge in each town center, though, yes?

I have fond memories of the first days of daylight saving time in the springs of my childhood. That First Day was always magical... like somehow, someone flipped a switch and presto, more sun. All at once.

The First Day for us this season had quite a dreary, rainy start, and I actually had a fleeting hope that bed times would be easier than anticipated, due to the cloudy dim. We cracked out the collapsible tubes in the playroom, and spent all morning chasing each other and the Furry Jerks.

 

There was nary a clear photo to be had, but it was a fun way to spend the first half of the day. Then, lo and behold, the sky cleared over naps, and with a burst of energy, we went forth to find puddles!

The hubs grilled out in the evening light (that made everyone feel like it was 3:30pm), and we finished the day with the first bath of the season in natural light!

Alas, the fresh, energizing light was just a little too energizing, and bed times were about like we thought they might be (Sister didn't fall asleep until after 10pm, and Bubby wasn't that much earlier), but it was still another magical First Day.