Today sunset will finally be after 5:00 pm.  Soon the sun will rise before seven as our planet travels its course around the sun.  The ebb and flow of the days and the constant slow change of our sun.

The lengthening days bring hope.  Slowly we change our habits and adapt.  Now we start to speak of hikes in the hills, car trips to distant places, and sitting on the beach with a picnic lunch.

Contrast with just two short months ago as the days shortened and garden hoses where coiled and put away.  Contrast with the day when the swing seat was pushed into the back of the shed to protect it from the snow.

Desert snow.  Snow in the high desert – a juxtaposition of nature.  Infrequent, but still beautiful as it covers the sand and lizards in that white pure blanket.

Cold hands feel little and struggle to hold the wrench that wants to build – something, anything.

Long nights lead under the safe warmth of the blankets on the bed.  Reading, dreaming and hoping for a new earlier dawn.

Dawn.  Twilight.  Civil, nautical, and astronomical twilight all define that space between darkness and light.  Between lightness and dark.  Those times when the bright noon colors fade to gray and then to black.

The elliptical light tracks my mood.  It was darkening as the old year faded.  Now hope for change, hope for a vaccine, and in my own back yard a construction crew builds the framework for a new world I can build in.

Still, it feels like twilight out there with long shadows and cold biting the air.

Soon the sun will set after six and the shadows shorten as a warming wind brings hope for a spring. 

About Andrew Reynolds

Born in California Did the school thing studying electronics, computers, release engineering and literary criticism. I worked in the high tech world doing software release engineering and am now retired. Then I got prostate cancer. Now I am a blogger and work in my wood shop doing scroll saw work and marquetry.
This entry was posted in Poems and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to Daylight

  1. Christi says:

    I love your prose/poetry posts the best, and that’s saying something because I pretty much love everything you write.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. A lot of poetry in this post, Andrew.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Yay for more daylight. I feel the winter evenings are more depressing than the days.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. We’ve already noticed the increase in daylight and I, for one, am happy to see it. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • I love the light.


      • FranknBean says:

        Here at my town in Mountian Time Z I’m at about the same latitude as yours. And at similar distance from eastern edge of the TZ line. So here also sundown time just tripped past the 5pm mark.

        I hate driving home from work during the wintertime with car headlights turned on. Thanks to covid I’m already home at quitting time. WFH is a drag but the commute is easy.

        Yes I consider myself fortunate to still be among the employed though voluntary layoff to pursue retirement is knocking at my door.

        As always
        I Thank you for sharing your mind.

        Liked by 1 person

        • The voluntary layoff helped me out the work door and into retirement. I’d planned to retire in two years, but with covid, management changes – my company offered a good termination package so I took the money and ran for the exit. Now I don’t have to drive at night unless I want to.


  5. Pied Type says:

    I hate the winter loss of daylight. I don’t think I have SAD, but sunset at 4:30 really bums me out. The longer days are like exiting a long, dark tunnel.

    Liked by 1 person

Comments are closed.