Everyone marks time differently regardless of the calendar we follow. Some of us count the weeks of vacation we’ll get, others watch their babies grow from one stage to the next. Still others observe their garden and wonder how it will grow in the coming season.
Last year my goal was to observe the times of sunrise and sunset in one particular location. I chose the closest weather station to me recorded at Environment Canada: Halifax Stanfield International Airport.
Every morning, shortly after rising, I went to the website, chose Halifax (not Halifax Shearwater; that’s my old stomping grounds near Cole Harbour) and recorded the temperature, the sunrise and sunset times of the day.
I looked out the window to see if it was raining, cloudy, clear, foggy or snowing and recorded that too to get a better picture of the weather on that day.
Why did I choose sunrise and sunset times? I’ve always been fascinated with the amount of daylight hours vs nightdark hours. I wanted to see if sunrise times increased consistently as the days got longer. Did we get one more minute of daylight per day or two or three? And after summer solstice, did the days shorten by more than one minute and did they do it consistently?
How did the mechanics of the universe approach summer and winter solstices? Did they stop on a dime, or did they come to a slow pause? Did the days actually start getting shorter on June 21st? Did they begin to length on December 21st?
Here are the answer for 2013:
The day had been pleasant. John and I had celebrated the rising of the sun with dear friends. As we made our way home from the festival, my white ceremonial gown shimmered in the fading sunlight. We walked along the wooded path in silence, occasionally stealing glances and giggling in a giddy-kinda way. The raspberry wine left us both with a care-free spirit.
John reached over and stole a kiss and I snuggled into his side. The dry leaves uncovered from the snow by the heat of the sun rustled beneath my leather shoes. The air was crisp and cooling and by nightfall, the warmth near the hearth would be beckoning.