My least favorite time of year is Spring Forward. I kind of dig Fall Back. Maybe in a past life I was a farmer, because I’m all up in the hey let’s not fuck with the clock.

Fuck you William Willet and fuck your early-rising dismay at laggards like me who don’t mind missing a little natural lighting for a little sleep.

Meanwhile, the pleasant side effect to this most hated of modern-day traditions was discovering what my still new commute is like at dusk. Winding over a mountain and eventually letting out to the sea. Literally, driving west into the sunset.

I actually rolled a tad slower. And, the soundtrack was traffic reports and Terry Gross not Bach. (Shot with Cycorder on my jailbroken iPhone. Saurik is my new favorite person I will likely never meet.)

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