Time is such a basic element of the human condition. We are ruled by it before all other governments. And, the day is such a basic unit of time—the measurement of the earth’s orbit around the sun and its spinning around itself.
I am out at 6:00AM this mid-February morning as per usual walking the dog. It is winter’s last frigid stand, I think. The air temperature is 17 degrees but the wind gusts make it seem like 1 degree above zero. I am dressed for the cold; still, I can feel it seeping through my sheepskin boots and cashmere hat. It is usually quiet at this hour. Today I hear birds singing clear and loud through the dry air. I notice there is more daylight than I have seen in months. Yes, the day is growing longer. Spring is on the way. I can smell it, earthy through the crispness. My pulse quickens and I can’t help but smile. Rebirth.
Yet, I must admit that I do love the winter mornings, when I am out walking as the sun rises. The delicate light creeps into the eastern sky and bursts into pink and purple swaths that grow brighter until the yellow rays rise to take over the sky. Those fragile first moments of the day are so promising, so new. I do believe of all the day’s hours, I love dawn the most. It signals another beginning and I am grateful for that.
Of course, dusk is splendid, also. When the time of light is limited, we can look to the sky for the display of deep reds and oranges that fade as the light dims and darkness takes over. Sometimes, I think the sunset is bearable because the sunrise will follow.