When time comes to move my clocks back an hour, I always wait until Monday morning. I keep my regular schedule all weekend and offer myself the luxury of waking up an hour later to begin the week.
In Texas, the days don't change that much from summer to winter. It doesn't get dark in the afternoon, and mornings are clear by the time most people walk out. However, Texas has splendid sunsets. Earlier sunsets mean that there are still people in the streets to enjoy them. Sunsets in the University are particularly delightful: the white stone reflect the orange light everywhere, enveloping the world in warm colors.
One of my favorite moments of the day when we still lived in Paris was coming home from school on the 17:55 train. There were long stretches of open track where you could see almost the entire Bassin. The skyscrapers of La Défense stood grouped together in the haze to the right, Paris and its streets stretched out in the distance. Best of all, on the hour, right as the train passed the best viewpoint in the valley, the Lady Eiffel would light up and sparkle like diamonds.
It's been six years since I sat on that train and watched the City of Lights shimmer in the night. As winter approaches, I wonder if there is, somewhere on that ever-punctual train, a girl who waits for the hour to turn.
In Texas, the days don't change that much from summer to winter. It doesn't get dark in the afternoon, and mornings are clear by the time most people walk out. However, Texas has splendid sunsets. Earlier sunsets mean that there are still people in the streets to enjoy them. Sunsets in the University are particularly delightful: the white stone reflect the orange light everywhere, enveloping the world in warm colors.
One of my favorite moments of the day when we still lived in Paris was coming home from school on the 17:55 train. There were long stretches of open track where you could see almost the entire Bassin. The skyscrapers of La Défense stood grouped together in the haze to the right, Paris and its streets stretched out in the distance. Best of all, on the hour, right as the train passed the best viewpoint in the valley, the Lady Eiffel would light up and sparkle like diamonds.
It's been six years since I sat on that train and watched the City of Lights shimmer in the night. As winter approaches, I wonder if there is, somewhere on that ever-punctual train, a girl who waits for the hour to turn.
2 comments:
Reminds me of when I worked. I always pretended to myself that I returned from holiday a day later than I did. That way I could get lots done on the first day and come in on my 'first day back' without having to face a desk full of chaos.
So I'm not the only one who gazes at things and wonders how many others have enjoyed that sight and whether they, too, have been as grateful for the opportunity.
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