We are each blessed or cursed with an internal clock that guides us in our interactions with the world around us. Some of us are morning persons, some evening. It’s just the way we are born. Left alone, and especially when I’m out in the wild, I am of the morning persuasion. Give me a bit of light in the eastern sky, and I’m happy to get moving.
I bring this up, of course, because our morning light is returning. As I write this, we’ve just wrapped up the four months of celestial darkness in the northern hemisphere that run from October 21st to February 21st. For the next four months, every day will see more morning light. I couldn’t be happier. (We’ll ignore here the impending return of Daylight Savings Time – which changes our clocks but not the light from the sun.)
We like to think of ourselves as highly informed beings, but the truth is that most of us know far less about the annual cycles of lightness and darkness than did our ancestors. The reason is quite simple – to a degree unprecedented in human history we live lives almost completely buffered from what naturally goes on around us.
We spent most of our time indoors, and with electric lighting and modern HVAC systems, natural phenomena like darkness and light or heat and cold mean very little to our daily lives. If it’s cold and dark out, we just stay inside and surf the web.
All this is quite recent. Just a few generations ago most Americans were farmers, and what happened outdoors affected just about everything. Modern farmers still understand this fundamental fact, but they are a tiny minority our current world.
As spring light returns to the northern hemisphere, all the living things that surround us are very aware of the changing light. Even in cold places like the Harney Basin, the first shoots of this coming summer’s green plants are inching upward, and in the sky many millions of migratory birds are moving northward
I was talking today to someone who knows our region well, and they reminded me that Sandhill cranes can be counted on to arrive in the northeast corner of California around the 14th of February. Since then, some have entered the Harney Basin. Many other species are close behind.
It’s the season of returns. The cranes are simply a harbinger of all that is yet to come. It’s time to get outside and enjoy the morning light.
