Is this evolution or just getting old? Or are we talking something else?
That’s what I’ve been asking myself recently as I’ve clearly changed from my morning person ways.
I used to be awake before the birds or the worms. Before the sun even thought about showing its face I was up and going full speed ahead. I’d be typing away on my keyboard, or climbing onto the saddle of my bicycle, or out doing yard work long before most people rolled over to slam the snooze button for the first time.
But that doesn’t happen anymore.
I don’t even remember the last time it happened.
Sure I still get out on the bike and ride, quite a bit actually. But that ride starts long after the elementary school across the street has morning announcements and well into first recess.
Who is that Grandma on her bike at ten am, or later?
Yesterday I had to rethink my late ways. Being January, naturally the morning hours are cold and I’m quite justified in waiting to ride until the air warms a bit. But yesterday, good grief, it was nearly eighty degrees when I was on my last couple miles. Too warm for my liking.
If I value my life, here in the bowels of Hades during the summer I have to get out to ride before the sun breaks the horizon. Eighty degrees pre-sunrise is the norm. But I’m not putting up with that nonsense in January, or even in February.
So how do I get my early bird ways back? Or is that impossible? Have I crossed some invisible age barrier? Wait, that can’t be it. I’ve heard that old people only sleep a few hours a night. I’m close to needing double digits of sleep.
Maybe, just maybe, it’s the lack of sunlight. I’ve noticed that the sun doesn’t rise until sometime after seven, which is weird for this part of the world. Seriously, I swear every other year we’ve lived in Arizona we were immune to that whole short days/long nights winter thing. Just like we’re immune to the snow, rain, intelligent drivers and honest politicians. It just doesn’t happen here.
This year has been different, seriously. The sun sets at some dumb hour like five-thirty when it used to set at seven. And mornings take an eternity to arrive. I just don’t understand.
Don’t give me any of that earth tilt and rotation and planetary alignment stuff either, because I’m not buying it.
I blame Trump and Congress and especially those Californians. In fact, I’d let those Washington people slide and lay it all at the feet of California. They’re right there where the sun sets, weighing down the country with their strange beach-going ways. And all those earthquakes, what’s up with that?
I could be wrong. I admit that. Something else could be the cause. But, think about it for a minute.
Okay, okay. Probably it’s the whole aging thing. And not having the grandkids close by, that’s clearly thrown off my chi. One out of seven lives nearby-ish. The rest, I have to rely on the Jetson’s style of contact, video chatting. It’s something, but it doesn’t make the sun rise on time like it used to when they all lived close.
Maybe we accidentally subscribed to some charming door-to-door salesman’s pitch of daylight savings time and it’s really messing with the account balance of the space/time continuum. Those sales tactics are sneaky. (And no, I am NOT buying any girl scout cookies this year. It’s still January. I’m still rocking my resolutions to eliminate all joy and gladness from life.)
It could also be evolution. But I’ll have to give that more thought. Wasn’t it Einstein or Lincoln or MSH who said, “The only thing constant in life is change.”
Maybe if you’re out and about on the trails around here I’ll see you and nod or wave. But it won’t be early, that’s for sure. Worms are for the birds.