Tag Archives: Birdsong

Standard Time

This week on the Wednesday Blog, I argue that we should stick to Standard Time — Click here to support the Wednesday Blog: https://www.patreon.com/sthosdkane

This week on the Wednesday Blog, I argue that we should stick to Standard Time.


I missed the switch to Daylight Savings Time this year as I was in Puerto Rico that weekend which doesn’t do the time change, meaning we went from being 2 hours ahead of home to just 1 on the night of our return journey. So, my usual annoyance at the transition to Daylight Savings Time, and the hour lost in the process, wasn’t as severe. Yet as we return to Standard Time after a long summer I have some thoughts about why we ought to stay where we are now.

It baffles me that “Standard Time” lasts only 5 months, though it doesn’t feel that long, while Daylight Savings Time, or Summer Time as they call it in Europe, lasts during 9 separate months from mid March through early November. Daylight Savings has effectively overrun the calendar, leading to the calls in March for us to permanently adopt DST as our new standard, year-round, time.

I had no major complaints with this proposal earlier this year, though I figured that Standard Time is probably closer to the natural solar time than Daylight Savings which fiddles with the clock like a crafty accountant. All that changed when I began to leave home before dawn for this new teaching job, and I found myself barely seeing the morning sun on most days. As we returned to Standard Time this week I’ve felt far happier leaving home in the early dawn hearing the birds whistling away in the trees, welcoming the new dawn as they do.

I may not feel quite as euphoric as Edvard Grieg’s “Morning Mood” from his Peer Gynt suite would evoke, yet I am much happier seeing that Sun high in the sky above me as I begin my day. So, let’s make Standard Time the default and eliminate Daylight Savings, as those two time changes each year cause such a bother.

I find that our cities have long been built to be seen more at night amid the glow of streetlights than during the daytime. We gain more evenings under their sway, more evenings too away from the city lights to gaze up at the stars high above us. I’m fine with the Sun setting so early in the evening. I’ve lived in cities where it sets far earlier than it does Kansas City in winter, and there’s something about that which evokes a sort of seasonal sense of nostalgia in me, a memory of Christmas and all the other midwinter holidays to come.

Standard Time is as close to our original local solar time as we’ll be able to get. Not that long ago, each city and town had its own time based on its own local noon. I’d rather have our clocks tick closer to that local noon than not. Consider this my vote.


Springtime

This week I want to share a few words about the beauty of Spring. Click here to support the Wednesday Blog: https://www.patreon.com/sthosdkane

I’m so glad to have enjoyed this April, to have had some truly beautiful days in short sleeves out under the blue skies listening to the birdsong that rings around my neighborhood. Throughout my life one of the most commonly asked questions has been “what’s your favorite season?” For the longest time I’d say Winter for the mystery of those long, dark, cold nights, for the appearance of the constellations like Orion that I remembered seeing the most in my childhood, and for the exuberant joy of Christmas and New Year’s. Yet today, I don’t think I have a favorite anymore. There are things I like about all four seasons, from the radiant red leaves of Fall to the warm days and nights of Summer. Spring is perhaps the most beautiful of the four seasons for how much joy it radiates. Spring sees the rebirth of the gardens and trees here in Kansas City, it sees our wild neighbors––the birds and beasts alike––returning from their wintering to a new year of life here in the Fountain City.

I find myself drawn to less dramatic things today, less of the big lightning storms that race across the prairies in Summer, and more to the softer, gentler, more subtle breezes of Spring. Sure, it does rain a lot here in the Springtime, as the winter snows begin to warm up and turn to rain. Spring is a time when we have the rains we need throughout the Summer, the water that keeps life possible here on the edge of the Great Plains, in a region dry enough that really it shouldn’t support a city of 2 million.

Yesterday, after finishing writing my lecture notes for my upcoming Summer class titled The Columbian Exchange in the First Age of Exploration, 1500–1700, I took a break from my desk and went outside into our backyard to get a better listen to the birds that were singing their hearts out on our back fence and in our fountain. There’s one blackbird who spent most of the weekend playing in the bubbling water that burst from the trunk of that elephant-shaped fountain. If a bird could laugh, then that little blackbird was giggling with joy the whole time.

My fascination with Spring began seven years ago in April 2016 when after a long winter I found myself vacationing in France with my parents. We spent our first week together staying in a guest house on the shores of Lake Annecy in the French Alps, the clearest glacial lake I’ve ever seen, enjoying the stillness of the place and the immense natural wonder that the lake, the forests, and surrounding mountains held. Then, as that week came to an end, we boarded a train in Geneva and headed northwest to Paris, savoring a week together there in the French capital before I returned to London, where I was then living, and my parents home to Kansas City. I remember a great deal about that week in Paris, in fact I wrote an entire chapter in my book Travels in Time Across Europe all about that week. 

Yet what I remember most about that city is the light, the brilliant delicacy of the April sunshine in Paris will always stay with me. It made the impressionist paintings that I grew up loving, the works of Monet, make more sense to me having been there in that moment. I remember one day in particular when we traveled out to Meudon to visit Renoir’s home and studio where the grand boulevards of the city give way to a mix of suburbia and creeping remnants of the countryside. I learned to appreciate Renoir’s sculptures far better that day, and to understand more of what makes Spring such a beautiful season in our lives. Vivaldi captured that emotion in his Four Seasons, Johann Strauss Jr. evoked the joy of the Flowers of Spring in his Frühlingsstimmen Walzerand Ella Fitzgerald embodied it in her own famous song April in Paris. I for one will let that little blackbird have the last word.

To hear the blackbird, click on the podcast player at the top.