By Anita Garner
Four o’clock is golden. I can hear four o’clock coming, wearing a bell around its neck.
I feel four o’clock in my bones.
It’s the turning point in the day. Time to exhale. Get up. Think about what’s next. Could be coffee. Could be something intoxicating. Only a rude person would suggest four o’clock is too early for that. It might be a walk around the block or aimless wandering into another room.
Four o’clock’s intent changes with the seasons. In winter, the light is leaving and there’s the pleasant prospect of an early evening by firelight. In summer, if I choose to follow the light, there’s plenty of time left to see where it leads.
Professional schedules these days are often malleable. We may still be accountable to somebody, but how we do it varies. It’s our own business how we set our internal clocks. Four o’clock insists I pay attention. Time to tap into fresh resources and keep going, or wrap it up for the day.
I’m guessing everybody has a magic hour, declared or not, a time when everything shifts. Four o’clock is mine. What’s yours?
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I understand completely –is it getting started with something new or watching Dr. Phil and getting nauseated at the nonsense. I tend to get reenergized about 3:00 or 4:00 and get things done around here. Right now I am packing for my trip North for a week. The cat is at the boarding facility raising a racket at being there, but it is their problem now. I have put things in a suitcase, taken them out, decided I really don’t need to take anything as I have clothes in MA – but some are favorites — kind of like your pants that talk to you.
Four o’clock is a good time to take stock of a day and plan the comfort of the evening ahead. I never noticed but you’re right. It is the beginning of Act 3.