It was getting dark, and I was high.

High up in a building, that is — fourteen floors above the street below.

The time change only happened a couple of days ago, but it’s already wreaking havoc on my body. Yesterday morning I wide awake sans-alarm at 4:30. Last night falling asleep was impossible. Today it took me forever to get out of bed, and I felt the morning’s pummeling all day long.

Before I headed home yesterday, I paused in our agency kitchen with its wall of windows that faces the Pacific Ocean. Catalina Island was a large, formidable mass before me, while both the water and large, billowing clouds in the west were so close in color it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

But there was the sun, making the dividing line obvious.

It was practically the color of a red stoplight, perhaps with a touch of coral tossed in for good measure.

Such a vibrant color against the gray of the ocean and clouds was striking; I’ve not seen anything more beautiful from Mother Nature’s offerings in quite a while. Its appearance wasn’t lost on others, either. As I watched the fiery slice of sun sink closer to the horizon, a colleague passed by.

“Watching the sunset?” he asked.

“Yes, have you seen it?” I replied.

He had, commenting that we normally aren’t treated to such beauty until the time changes each year. Bittersweet, yes, but so true.

Tonight I am thankful for the beautiful sunset I’d normally have missed had it not been for being up high in a building just after the time change. While losing an hour of daylight isn’t the most uplifting way to usher in cooler temperatures, beautiful sunsets certainly are a perk of this time of year. For the same view which took on new magnificence just by the shift of a clock, I am grateful.