Springtime in New Jersey
Here I am, two weeks past the vernal equinox, and once again noticing the great lift of energy I receive from watching the sun rise at a northern angle ... from seeing the daffodils emerge from woodland floor of last winter's fallen leaves ... from seeing the new chicks and the springtime blue of the sky.
Is it 'just' the change in daylight? the change in the hours of daylight? the brightness of the natural world now that many trees are in bud and some in flower?
Is this some annual cousin to the diurnal cycle?
Whatever. As usual in spring, I'm sleeping much less than just a couple of weeks ago, getting lots done and making lists of things that will get done -- often with surprising ease considering the level of tense procrastination they've received -- in the next few days. As usual in spring, some of this new energy is being spent regretting the doldrums of February and March.
I always thought the doldrums of February were a direct product of 'not enough light and too much cold'. But if that is true, then how account for this year, when I spent February in Guatemala, literally in the tropics, in a region where the shortest day of the year was more than 11 and a half hours? where the temperature was never less that 50 degrees F and usually more like 75?
So. I'll enjoy this energy while I have it. And, probably, mourn its loss some when it's gone again. But how intriguing to discover that it might be season-dependent and yet not have to do with the angle or duration or color of the light or the temperature of the air.
Is it 'just' the change in daylight? the change in the hours of daylight? the brightness of the natural world now that many trees are in bud and some in flower?
Is this some annual cousin to the diurnal cycle?
Whatever. As usual in spring, I'm sleeping much less than just a couple of weeks ago, getting lots done and making lists of things that will get done -- often with surprising ease considering the level of tense procrastination they've received -- in the next few days. As usual in spring, some of this new energy is being spent regretting the doldrums of February and March.
I always thought the doldrums of February were a direct product of 'not enough light and too much cold'. But if that is true, then how account for this year, when I spent February in Guatemala, literally in the tropics, in a region where the shortest day of the year was more than 11 and a half hours? where the temperature was never less that 50 degrees F and usually more like 75?
So. I'll enjoy this energy while I have it. And, probably, mourn its loss some when it's gone again. But how intriguing to discover that it might be season-dependent and yet not have to do with the angle or duration or color of the light or the temperature of the air.