It’s such a sweet deal, this day is.

One hour of darkness sacrificed –

and

offered in return

for such a minor price

is the inaugural hour of daylight savings, brilliantly transported to the slight end of this day,

and it will be true tomorrow’s eve,

and the morrow after that…

Accompanying the vagabond hour

is a peeling of winter layers –

a gleeful shed of wool and fiber

anywhere else

but on me.

Instantly,

there is

time to walk the dog without rushing to beat the darkness,

time to linger longer on the porch with a book, or a cup of something, or a friend,

to putter in the tender twilight garden or

tarry at a picnic table out back amid spent dinner dishes

that held our evening sup among the trees.

An expanse of hours stretching as it does only now,

pulling each day into a heady sunset

that takes it own sweet time, waning slowly.

All told it is a gift of 238 hours, or 14,280 minutes more

topping the evenings

gracing the gloaming

for months to come.

Buoyancy!

Revelry!

Verve!

Spring forward –

Why don’t you?