Carol A. Hand
Daylight Saving Time always catches me by surprise. Traveling between times as I write about the past heightens my awareness about how quickly things change, one season to the next. East and west markers change as I witness the sun rise and set.
I’ve never been comfortable adhering to rigid schedules. Now in retirement, I only have one commitment that requires being “on time.” What a funny expression, “on time.”
I have a number of non-working watches. Finding the right replacement batteries seems such a waste of my time. But I do have clocks. A lot of them, in fact.
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Most are battery powered because I lived off the power grid for so many years, or in prairie storm-country where I often lost power. Some of the clocks are works of art and craftsmanship.
Despite all of these constant reminders, I much prefer to live by “Indian time,” doing things when “the time is right,” rather than adhering to rigid schedules. It makes life more unpredictable to be sure, but there’s a lot to said about the benefits of “going with the flow.” Maybe that explains why I’ve only changed some of clocks to the newly imposed meaning of time.
I prefer to measure time by watching the sun rise and set, and by marveling about how quickly my grandchildren change as they grow. It brings to mind a song from Fiddler on the Roof, Sunrise Sunset.
“Is this the little girl I carried
Is this the little boy at play
I don’t remember growing older
When did they
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“When did she get to be a beauty
When did he grow to be so tall
Wasn’t it yesterday
When they were small
“Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly flow the days
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers
Blossoming even as we gaze
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“Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears…”
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Clocks or no clocks, it’s time for me to get busy editing. May your days bring you many moments of peace, happiness and joy.
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Voices from the Margins 