The Older I Get, the Shorter the Day Appears

 The older I get, the shorter the day appears to be.

As a teen, I'd study, hastily complete projects, read, write stories, tend to a window garden, and still have the hours to burn away on contemplation and night-time wandering. Somehow, I feel that I had ran on less sleep.

I have memories of day and night bleeding into one another, as I tended to the aforementioned pursuits. Then again, maybe all this can be attributed to the constant access to electricity.

If you've ever gone camping, you've noticed that you have little choice but to rise and rest with the sun. Unless, of course, you've either built a fire, or brought a sizeable light source with you. Rarely are either of these options plausible for those of us who live outdoors.

Fires attract too much attention, and carrying a light source any larger than a headlamp is rather cumbersome.

Thus, I often find myself grasping at the final fleeting strands of sunlight. Just to finish reading one final chapter, or scrawl out one more idea.

Luckily, with the advent of cellphones, I can continue writing or researching. Still, there is only so much battery life separating comfortable refuge from hours beside an outlet on the side of a building.