Days of darkness

 

It’s Sunday morning, and it’s dawn. And it’s dark.

And it’s always the same this time of the year. Days get shorter, nights get longer and the cold sets in. A time when mood changes, depressive thoughts come barging in, and nothing is the same. A feeling of loneliness embraces the room and I am wide awake.

The moon shines through the window. I peek through the lace curtains at the window above the head board and look outside. I am not sure what I am hoping to see. There’s a veil of fog settling over the forest and into the fields. There’s a sense of emptiness and yet so full of life.

The dogs have been quiet for awhile. They sleep astray from their shelters, in guarding spots across the backyard. Their white coat shines through the fog as the moon keeps guard of this eternal quietness.

Everything is peaceful.

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It’s Sunday morning, and it’s dawn. And it’s dark.

A shriek sound comes from outside the bedroom. I turn towards the door only to lay my eyes on one of the cats. I guess she sensed me being awake. She makes her way towards the bed and jumps on the covers. She starts purring as soon as her front paws hit the covers. I gaze absently into the darkness and my eyes connect with hers, as she’s making her way up my legs. She’s looking for my hands. She drops in my lap loving my hand stroking her soft fur. She’s still purring and will for a while…

From the corner of my eye I see a black shadow move across the floor. A quick jump and the black cat joins us on the covers. A symphony of purring engorges the room, breaking the silence.

They are both satisfying my need for morning cuddles so that I can get up soon and feed their hunger needs.

A mutual silent understanding.

It’s Sunday morning, and it’s dawn. And it’s dark.

Highly involved in cuddles and petting, I forget for a moment what day it is, what time it is and what’s next. A big yawn from downstairs breaks this brief oasis and steps are heard moving across the room. A quick head shake from Tia, makes her ears flap around, and the loud slapping noise indicates she’s done stretching. I wait to hear her body plop on another couch and everything to go quiet again. But it’s that time in the morning that she’s awake and in need to go outside. With a quick movement she scratches at the door with her right paw. She’s a right handed this one. I try to pretend I didn’t hear. She knows I can hear her. And she moves her paw again and scratches at the door. Now, I’m really up. I slide ever so gently out of the covers to not disturb the cats too much and make my way downstairs. Cats following.

As Tia makes a quick move and situates herself comfortably back on the couch, I make my way back upstairs. I am welcomed by both cats at the top of the stairs. An orchestra is about to start, but not of gentle purrs. And when they start vocalizing their needs, one better be obedient, else there’s no end to it. The food bowl is not full.

It’s all back to normal in cat world.

Tia

It’s Sunday morning, and it’s dawn. And it’s dark.

I slide back under the covers and lie there, face up, staring at the ceiling. For some odd reason, this moment takes me back to grandma’s house, where I used to lie in bed, face up, not sleeping during nap times. I would count the cracks that were formed in the ceiling, some hairline size. I would even try to see if I can distinguish any shapes in the popcorn like drops that covered the ceiling. There was a sheep, and a big cloud, and a lonely, tiny coffee cup. And every now and then a tiny spider would move across and interrupt my playful imagination. I close my eyes and smile at the memories that invade my mind. It’s quiet again.

Not for long. A familiar morning song breaks the stillness of time. The rooster crowing is a gentle reminder that the sunrise is now eminent. I open my eyes and think “already!?” I glance over to my right to catch the bright numbers displayed on the clock. It reads 4:37. Why am I already awake? Why is the rooster already announcing the morning rituals?

It’s Sunday morning, and it’s dawn. And it’s dark! and during the night the time changed! It changed back to its regular consistent and continuous speed of movement. Which is still the same as before, and nothing changed, except only now Daylight Savings is over and the clock read 2am twice this past night…

And I am actually awake at same time I am awake every day.

It’s Sunday morning, and it’s dawn. And it’s dark.

And nobody cares for the time change. The cats still ate at the same time, the dogs will have their meal still at the same time, and the rooster still crowed at the same given moment in time, when he needs to announce the sunrise and the beginning of a new day.

And you know who else doesn’t care for it? My body. As clearly, I was awake at the same trained morning moment in the day and went about starting the morning chores without even batting an eyelash at the black box with red lights that displays a bunch of numbers during the day. All numbers arranged in order and only counting to 59 in seconds and minutes and to 24 in hours.

You know who else doesn’t care for Daylight Savings changes? All animals across the globe and people that don’t revolve their lives around time as a measurement. And all the cultures across the globe that don’t practice this time change. No, they don’t want to gain an extra hour in Spring and no, they don’t want to lose an hour in the Fall…

But we’re supposed to get used to the changes in about a week or so, right?

Ya, right!

It’s Sunday morning, and it’s dawn. And it’s still dark!

Laura.

 

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(ChickinBoots on Facebook)

 

And as I was saying … 

 

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