I noticed this morning that there is a major difference in the darkness when, against my wishes, Daylight Savings returns it to me. The birds are singing their hearts out!
I welcome the shift that signals a change in seasons, as January closes and February starts. As cold as those mornings can be, winter fades. As late winter mornings slowly turn from black to blue to gray, bird calls change from the harsh cough of starlings and piercing caw of crows, to early geese pulling their flock along with steady honking. Before I see robins, their trills filter through the woods, a sweet promise that the season is changing. As light grows each day, I'm aware of more and more calls: cardinals whistle, jays chatter, woodpeckers drill, doves mourn. As my delight in dawn's orchestra warms my heart, the clock springs forward and I'm thrust back into night, grudging the return of darkness~ longing for twilight to be recycled over four more weeks .
This morning, for the first time (unless, perhaps I'd completely forgotten), I walked out into the darkness to hear the avian orchestra tuning itself as sweetly as I'd enjoyed it a week ago. I was enraptured! Spring is still singing in the trees! How is it, that after years of complaining about returning to dark mornings, I never realized that the birds don't need sunshine to welcome the day? Why should I put my celebrations of life on hold, because someone tried to turn out its light?
DonnaMarie Fekete, 16 March 2016