It's a gray, sleepy Monday morning. I am struggling to get myself fully awake and alert. Why is it that changing the clocks one hour can feel so significant to us? Especially to those of us who are used to flying over multiple time zones? (Granted, do we ever get "used" to it?)
As I lie in bed, slowly waking up, I'm comforted by the familiar sounds of a Monday morning:
*The garbage truck making its rounds
*The birds chirping and singing their morning songs
*The heat is on, warming the apartment. (Yes, we have had some gorgeous spring-like weather recently, but the nights are still cold.)
No comments:
Post a Comment