Here in the United States, we went back to Daylight Savings Time at 2:00 this morning. For the record, I hate time changes. Whether we are “springing forward” or “falling back,” the change confuses me and makes me grumpy.  I never feel like I’ve gained or lost an hour—we still have twenty-four in the day, don’t we? It simply throws off my inner clock and schedule.

If you know me, or if you’ve read previous posts of mine, you know I’m a morning person. So I “slept in” today to what should have been 6 AM, but it was 7 AM. Now at a bit after 9 in the morning, I feel like half the day is gone.  Grumpy, grumpy. 

However, the sun is actually shining, and spring is on the way. Soon. I hope. I really, really hope. I’m feeling better already.

But still confused by the time change.

Time is strange.  Humans try to structure it with clocks and calendars. But it’s for our benefit. It’s artificial. We can’t control time. The sand flows through the hourglass; the shadows grow longer. We cannot reclaim a single second. The bright faces, freshness, and innocence of youth vanish all too quickly. Still, aged wines and cheese have a special complexity that only comes from time.

I miss the energy I had when I was young–and my slim, young body, too–but that was a different me. Someone I don’t want to be again, but someone I know I can visit in my memory. And I suppose that is one of the wonderful things about being human. We can never revisit a moment that has past (at least until that time machine is actually created), but we have brains and creativity that allow us to revisit our own pasts, and we can revisit previous moments of others’ pasts, too, through books, photographs, even the remains from old privies.

Today I’m going to revisit my own past and my mom’s through old cookbooks and talks of recipes. Yes, sometimes it is all about food. Food and memories, and memories of food.

 I know in many ways I’m stronger now than I was when I was young, both mentally and physically. Like that rich, red wine, I’ve developed a subtleness and complexity that I couldn’t have had when I was young. It can only come from years—time passing—and life experiences. I hope I’m never too old to learn new things—actually, I hope I never too old to want to learn new things.

Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won’t come again

I want to keep my eyes open to world around me. To make moments count. OK. I might miss events, if they happen after 9:30 at night, but that’s what the Internet is for, right?  So Time, just keep on flowing, and I’ll do my best to stay afloat.