I attended a Halloween party last night at which I had a few drinks. This morning, as I write this post, my computer tells me it’s 7:20am. On a weekend, do I rise so early, especially after a party the night before? Do I have super powers, or irresistible ambition? The stove behind me says no; it’s (really) 8:20am. I’m fortified by daylight savings time, which has given me an extra hour.<\/p>\n
Some of my earliest childhood memories surround daylight savings time. I recall that, in late fall and winter, darkness would come very early: I could go out into full night just after dinner. In summer, of course, the morning would start long before I was up. The side of DST I saw was the day’s amazing length, which might reach 10pm.<\/p>\n
Later, in my university years, I took an hour’s bus ride each morning, first visiting the owner of a coffee shop, then passing on to my first class at 8:30am. The bus left at 5:57. I recall standing in full darkness, awaiting the bus, but then the following week, waiting for it in daylight. The clocks having been changed backwards, light came an hour earlier. Eventually, though, the shortening of the day caught up; by December, I was waiting for the bus in the dark again.<\/p>\n
I’m not sure why, but there seems to be a bigger difference between day and night while we have the clocks changed back. You can still have a brilliantly sunny day at 3pm; however, that same day at 6pm, the sunshine seems difficult to imagine. Is that just the shortness of the day, or does it become augmented somehow by the trick of the clock?<\/p>\n
Our focus on time we seem to share with some of the ancient civilizations. One wonders what they might have done about the wonderful invention of daylight savings time:)<\/p>\n