Turning the clocks back always seemed strange to me. Like witchcraft, or something. As if we're grabbing the sun with our bare hands and shoving it to the east, just a little.
Today feels magical, like we gained more than one hour. I keep looking at the clock, thinking it must be time for dinner, but it's not. It's time for laziness and The Office and bowls of Shreddies, cups of coffee.
And while time feels slow like molasses, when I look outside, darkness is coming so fast, and the leaves are falling away by the second, foliage from red to yellow to brown, trees turning to sticks before our very eyes.
(My neighbours below and beyond.)