Bittersweet, isn’t it, how summer has barely begun before daylight starts to recede? In truth, unlike winter, I scarcely notice the changing hour of sunrise or sunset. My memories of childhood summers are of one long, undifferentiated season of glorious sunshine outdoors. Logic says I had to be aware of rainy days and time indoors, but the gradual darkening from June through August escaped my attention.
As an older adult, I watch sub-seasonal changes more closely. New perennials constantly come into bloom; in one friend’s words, it’s like Christmas every day. Flying insects bite in June. Ragweed pollen triggers allergies in August. My childhood memories associate sneezes more with going back to school in the fall. Sub-seasonal changes in fauna and flora likely involve light as well as moisture, temperature, and who knows what else. Still, shorter days are among the shifts I notice least. That’s not a complaint. There’s a reason the winter solstice gets more attention than the summer one. As one who prefers light over darkness, in winter I need every reminder of hope that comes with the return of the sun. In summer, the future can wait. I’ll relish all the joy that’s on offer right now.
2 Comments
Ginny
7/16/2024 07:00:16 am
Love the photo and your reflections on this topic. I, personally, do not like daylight "saving" time. It's a misleading moniker for an unneeded bunch of confusion twice a year.
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7/16/2024 08:32:04 am
My grandmother's close friend used to object to daylight savings time on the grounds that we should stay on God's own good time. My other childhood memory about it is that for a while, every municipality or institution decided when and whether to go on DST. For three weeks one year, my parents' work began an hour off relative to my school.
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AuthorI'm a historian who writes novels and literary nonfiction. My home base is Madison, Wisconsin.
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