DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME
The Isolation Blues;
reflections during covid-19
End of daylight savings time I'm sitting here comfortably by the wood cookstove with my cup of coffee in hand contemplating the ease of my natural obsessions - time being one of the most common, but not today for I have gained an extra hour (or so I tell myself) as the daylight slips away from the corner window at 4:45 in the afternoon.
november airstream twenty degree air moving by my face like cold water running downstream alerts every molecule in my body to wake up and take note of the shift in circumstance the clock turning back the light of day altering its standard routine
With the first week of November the trees are already stripped of leaves and the air has a brisk bite first thing in the morning. It’s a manageable transition right up until we have to turn our clocks back one hour. That one hour time-adjustment is a noticeable jolt to one’s mental outlook and leads to a “hunkering down” effect on everything you do from that point on. You start to view your woodpiles and kindling with a discerning eye and start checking propane/fuel prices for the long haul of getting through another northern Maine winter. No matter how many times you’ve done it (and survived) you still have a cautious respect for the severity of the snow gods and how much havoc they can wreak.
The cold stream also sets the tone this time of year. I’ll walk down to the river and scooch on the rock ledge with a hot cup of coffee and dip my hand in the water. The hot coffee in my mouth, the warm mug in my hand and the cold water in the stream fight it out with my senses. Even the colorscape of the rock and water is steely cold and uninviting. If I decide to get in the water in November I do so with my rubber waders and circumspect footing. Not to say that I’ve fallen in this time of year, but it is never advised. Overall, I find staying close to the wood stove and keeping a hot beverage in hand to be the best option…
In the woods and by the stream,
Dave
November 4, 2021