We fell back last night. I bet the earth, sun and stars never even noticed. Didn’t much bother me one way or the other. I did get a small boost, however, when I realized why my clocks were all wonky. I woke up at what I thought was three except it would have been four if it were yesterday, but that was then and this is now and we’re saving daylight because of the farmers, except none of us are farmers. The main thing it means for me is that I can go to bed at a decent hour, and it will be dark. Alleluia. I’m a morning person anyhow.

On the morning front there’s nary a cloud in the sky, which means the sun doesn’t know what to do with itself except shine and all that sunlight runs right up into the blue sky. Oh, there’s a hint of orange around the edges of the earth, but nothing pink or even remotely exciting. Plus, the air is cold, and its little molecules are still and if the sun is looking to pick a fight there’s no one there to respond. That’s probably a good way to go through life. Just be cold, or chill. I think that’s the popular term.

Anyway, I chilled yesterday watching my granddaughter run in her final cross-country meet, and it was the state meet to boot. Not a bad way to go out. Out of 150 runners she finished 97. No medal but as her father points out, there are seven million kids in Texas which means being a state qualifier and finishing in the top 100 puts her in an elite group that represents a vanishingly small percentage of that population. That puts things in perspective and will probably serve her well in later life. To paraphrase one of my songwriter friends, she shot for the moon and ended up amongst the stars. Better than most, for sure, and chill, too.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale