Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Autumn in her generosity has bestowed a gorgeous weekend on us.  Even though the colors are past their prime, even though falling leaves are a nuisance and we all know what’s coming, it’s impossible not to acknowledge the weather.

“What a beautiful day,” I’ve exclaimed more than once, since waking.

It’s the last weekend before we turn clocks back, which means it’s also the last weekend when the sunset lingers until around seven o’clock. Next weekend we’ll be shocked into the realization that darkness comes swiftly and early. I know there’s a trade-off at the front end of the day, but somehow it never seems like much to me.

And why do we celebrate Daylight Savings Time anyway?

I’ve heard various reasons that have now become urban legends:  That farmers need to set their schedules with the sun. That DST saves energy. That everybody does it (with the exception of Hawaii and Arizona in our country). That even the Romans had a version.

But I’ve never seen documentation for any of this.  Have modern farmers been polled? What do they think? What amount of energy has been saved? And just exactly who is “Everybody”? But I digress.

For this weekend, I don’t want the pending time change to darken my mood, because . . . it truly is a beautiful day!