Quitting Time

More about Quitting Time

They called it quitting time because the light made the decision for you. Work could
argue, schedules could insist, but the sun had the final word—when it dropped low
enough to turn dust into gold and stretch shadows past usefulness, the day was
done. He eases the reins not out of fatigue, but agreement. Horse and rider both
know this hour. Muscles loosen. Thoughts slow. What wasn’t finished will still be
there tomorrow, unchanged by will alone.

There’s no triumph in the moment, and no regret either. Just the quiet accounting
that comes when effort has met its limit and held. The land keeps its distance, the
mountains mind their own business, and the dust settles behind him without
ceremony. Quitting time isn’t surrender; it’s recognition—the understanding that
some endings aren’t failures, but the only honest way to carry the day home.