morning

By five a.m., the sun spills into the bedroom. Birds start singing an hour earlier, but it is only now I hear their songs. In the distance trucks driving along I-65 move through the city, a lonely moan akin to the low rumble of freight trains. Day is coming, life is moving on. It is starting.

Because Hoosiers are stubborn about refusing Daylight Savings Time, our clocks do not spring forward or fall backward on the dates when this ritual is carried out in 46 of the other 47 contiguous states -- Arizona joins us in this defiance. We miss the discomfort of adjusting hours at the changeovers, but our mornings bring the sun into our lives earlier.