A few weeks before leaving for Mexico, we started noticing how much lighter it was during our early morning runs. We ran with little lights all through the winter (which is apparently over here, sorry Ottawa), but they don't illuminate much of the ground and were mostly to prevent idiot drivers from driving into us. So, besides the flashing from the mouse lights, the runs were mostly done in complete darkness. The water would be lit up from the moon, but what was going on with the sidewalks and roads was anyone's guess. And then, sometime in late January, the sun started making earlier and earlier apperances. Suddenly, those dark shapes on the road turned into dead birds (ok, maybe only one dead bird, but that black lump had freaked me out for days), houses appeared as if from nowhere, and we noticed that our route actually has a number of streetlights along it, none of which work. Yet more support for my theory that this island is kind of like Montreal...an eternal patch job. What's that...a hole? In an overpass? Let's just smear some tar over it...that'll hold it. Really, it only has to support 250,000 cars a day. C'est bien! It's all in the details, people.

I do not mean to deter you from that wonderful city. I love it. Probably more than I love Ottawa. But next time you're there, take a look around. Cracks and patches everywhere...in the sidewalks, on the streets, on the buildings, on the highways...it's very urban shabby-chic. So long as you're not around when the patches give way.

Anyways, we were enjoying not having to worry about stepping in a pot hole, or riding the bike into the sidewalk. We were leaving at the same time each day, but each day we could see some new part of our surroundings that we hadn't noticed before. Like the four kittens lined up on a doorstep every morning, or the dude on the other side of the road who runs so fast he is practically a blur...in what appear to be vintage Keds. Before the sun came up, he was only a whooshing noise.

When we came back from Mexico, I was astonished to see that it was practically daylight at 5:50 a.m. Cars could see us, we ditched our lights, we watched a heron follow us along the route, the kittens smiled and waved...it was fantastic. And it was so much easier to be out there that early when it was that light out. It really made me feel like we were making the most of our day. The added bonus was an amazing sunrise during the run, every single morning. I had been losing a bit of steam for the whole early wake-up, but this got me right back into it. I was loving it.

Enter: Daylight Savings. I personally think that the island could get away without it. What a waste of time...literally. We got up on Monday morning at the same time, an hour ahead, to find ourselves plunged back into total darkness...except that it was even darker than it had been back in "real" winter, December and January. The kittens have vanished, the whooshing noise is back with no Keds to accompany it, I rode the bike into the sidewalk twice this morning and we've had to up the ante with the addition of even more lights. We look like effin' Christmas trees. It's a disaster. OK, so we get some more light in the evening and that's lovely, but we're not outside in the evenings for the most part. We're not trying to motivate ourselves to put one foot in front of the other and start the day, we get no sunrise. My motivation has plummeted. I'm not a fan.

I know that this will change over the course of the next few months, but it just feels like such a setback. I'm sure there are some great arguments out there for why DST is a good idea, but I'm not liking it very much right now.


Anonymous said...

Daylight savings is stupid. We're still not on it - I should really check and see when we do change our clocks I suppose... But yes, what is the point? Can't we scrap the spring version at least but keep the hour's extra sleep in the fall?


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