When I was a little girl, the setting sun was a really large clock of sorts, indicating that play time was about to end. If we didn’t straggle home voluntarily, then the summons to supper, bath and bed would come from our Mom. Sometimes with a lot of emphasis.
I loved summers, because the sun didn’t set until almost ten o’clock—though the fun necessarily had to pause for supper. I sort of remember doing chores but mostly I remember playing. With friends. With siblings. Or reading by myself. Glorious days of reading.
I must have been tired, but I don’t remember tired. I remember not wanting the day to end. I remember feeling like sleep was a waste of time. (So was school, btw, to my young mind. It interrupted my play time and my reading time.)
I am both older and, I hope, wiser. I can see beyond the moment (though I still think there are few things that should interrupt reading time). I know about putting first things first. And the need for rest and refreshment. I know that a sunset is the end of a day, though it doesn’t feel like an ending. It’s more like a pause. The sun will return tomorrow.
I appreciate the sunrises and the sunsets more now than I did then (though I don’t often see the sun rise. Not a morning person). I know there are more of them behind me than ahead of me. Unlike Sheldon (Big Bang Theory), I’m not hoping to transfer my consciousness to a computer or machine. I’m content to go “quietly into the good night.” Though not right away.
I’ve still got fun things to do, books to write, books to read, family and friends to be with, my #grandmaproject to pursue. Which brings me back to hope. 🙂
What do you see when you look at that sunset? Do you remember? Do you feel hope? All comments are entered into my monthly giveaway of an AnaBanana gift basket ($25 value). The winner will be announced the first blog post in February.
“Pauline Baird Jones bursts onto the scene with an irresistibly fun-filled voice . . . “ Word Museum
The Spy Who Kissed Me is going into wide release.