Unpopular opinion

I like the DST

I had an idea that this year, this time, I wouldn’t engage with folks over the perennially fraught topic of Daylight Saving Time, which starts this weekend. Everybody hates it: the weird arbitrary changing of the clocks, the sudden reversion to morning darkness (which does suck for those with an early commute), the crabby small children — if you have those around. But for a person who has always loved summertime, who thrives in sunlight, who cannot get enough light both in and out of the house,¹ the arrival of Daylight Saving Time always heralds hope and a surge of cheer. That person is me.

But first! Do you know the origins of DST? I listened to this absolutely fascinating podcast once from 99% Invisible about time.² The first segment was about the knocker-uppers, yes, you read that right, whose job it was back in the days before people had watches, to wake people up. How? They had a list of clients’ names/addresses and their alarm times, and walked around town banging on doors and sometimes upstairs windows with a long stick to waken their clients. The last knocker-upper retired in 1973. I was alive.

Image of a knocker-upper I stole from the 99% Invisible site.

The next segment discusses time zones, in particular in China, which is the width of Canada/US. Despite this geographic size, China has one time zone. But in the autonomous region of Xinjiang in China, they observe a local, solar-based, time…in addition to the standard time. But they can’t be open about it. It’s a whole political thing related to the Uyghurs and you should listen to the podcast to understand.

Finally: the history of Daylight Saving Time. It’s not about farmers. It was this British dude who liked to ride his horse in the mornings and petitioned Parliament to legislate moving the clocks back so everyone could enjoy the morning sunlight (just get up earlier? I don’t know…seems simpler than enacting a whole law). They voted the idea down for like seven years in a row. But then, World War I happened, and Germany picked up the idea as a way to save energy since all the coal miners were fighting in the war. Then Britain followed suit. And now DST is everywhere and people across the lands have lamented it ever since.³

I spotted this robin with three of his friends the other day. Spring!

For me, DST has always signaled the onset of spring, and soon, summer. In Virginia, spring is not the muddy, snowy affair it is here in Montana. The air is mild and fragrant, the sun shines absurdly, and the weather generally makes it total torture to attend school through the end of the year. By the time June rolls around, the freedom afforded children newly liberated from school feels like nothing short of salvation. Three whole months of absolute hedonism, sun, and heat await.⁴

Between the start of my school career at age 3 (Montessori) through college, through graduate school, and into a teaching career, I spent exactly 15 months in a non-school-year-based schedule. Every other year of my life until recently, I’ve carried on with the summer-vacation mindset. September-May is for work, June-August is for relaxation. That means…hedonism, sun, and heat.

Pre-dawn sky over the north hills. Tiny dots of light just under the ridgeline are those excessively motivated runners out there every damn day.

Even though I now hold a position that requires work in the summer, I have not forgotten, will likely never forget, how the onset of summer makes me feel: elation followed by bliss followed by an expanding sense of hope. And this is why DST brings me happiness. It promises light, warmth, emancipation from the struggles of winter, a forthcoming season of joy.

This morning as I sat outside sipping coffee, I was struck by the brilliant blue-black of the eastern sky before dawn. At 17º, the superchilled air pulled steam from my cup and the breath from my lungs into swirling clouds that dissipated above my head. The north hills humped up in dark silhouettes in front of a vibrating blue. To brush against a summer dawn this way and then greet the rising sun remain ways to connect with my world, to find joy in the coming light.

1. Yes, I know I wrote about how much I love the dark. But that was in December…

2. Episode 443, Matters of Time

3. Some places don’t follow it, like Arizona and until 2006, Indiana.

4. And this is how I developed skin cancer, but that’s a story for another newsletter.