There is one event in the school year I look forward to the most: the sudden appearance of turkeys gobbling around the streets of Cambridge. It is always a pleasant surprise—and an unconventional reminder that Thanksgiving is approaching. 

As I rush through Harvard Yard for my 9AM class in my half-asleep state, I truly can not tell if it is a hallucination or if my walking buddy happens to be a turkey. The fall semester always marks the slow progression of many transitions: the leaves changing color, the temperature dropping, my fear of being attacked by a turkey increasing, but most notable of all, the daytime shortening. Although the extra hour of sleep on Daylight Savings Day rejuvenated my soul, it comes with a sizable catch. Coupled with the day getting started earlier, and the sun setting sooner, my window of sunlight promptly ends at 5PM.  

 So, my second favorite event of the school year? The end of the Winter Solstice. The shortest day of the year, marked with the reminiscence of the short time frame I still have left in the year to complete my New Year's Resolution from the beginning of the year, and that the days will keep getting longer and longer as the year progresses.  

Now that the school year has ended, I reflect upon my growth: the noticeable difference not only being all of the wonderful friends (and turkeys) I have met this past year, but also in the drastic change in the daylight time between the fall and spring semester. The short daylight of the fall semester, while difficult to transition into at first, guided me to a spring semester that helped me to fully optimize my daily schedule.  

There is a bright, figurative, and literal, aspect to the sun setting earlier—The sun also rises later. The calm of the mornings as I watched the gleam of the sun bursting through the waves of the Charles River and the silhouettes of birds cutting through the sky became a staple of my days. Without the added sleep deprivation to catch this tranquility, I embraced a burst of energy in the mornings as my soul glowed from the Vitamin D. Observing locals and students run, walk, and bike along the river before starting their mornings inspired me to finally cross off fixing my sleep schedule on my overdue New Year's Resolution list. The illustrious azure of the morning skies grew me into a quasi-morning person.  

With the extra time in my morning routine, I no longer felt like I was getting started with my day when everyone else was winding down. Located in Harvard Square, an area with shops and restaurants located in every corner, there is always a place to visit. Although I did not need the extra boost, it became routine to explore a new Café with friends in my mornings, an indulgence of delicious morning matcha along with core memories.  

With the consistent stamina to power my day, I became efficient with getting my homework done, just in time as the sun set. Emulating the slowness of the sun setting, my night routines became more intentional to effortlessly prepare myself for the mornings.  

These lessons from the shortened daylight hours inspired me to fully optimize my days. Winter nears its end, and the daylight will begin to grow longer and longer, but these lessons will not cease. My spring semester became marked with more morning coffee runs, more bike rides as the sun rises, and definitely more intentional slowness. Now, with longer days, I wonder if that means I’ll see more turkeys.