It was 4:03 when I noticed the sky beginning to turn amber and the sun rays angle sideways through the branches and between thick trunks of the trees.
It was 4:08 when I noticed the spherical flame resting on the mountain top.
It was 4:25 when I noticed the sphere was gone, but evidence that it was just hiding behind the mountain blazed across the sky.
It was 4:44 when I noticed it looked like someone turned up the saturation at the mountain's ridge line - the brilliant orange so intense; with the trees, mountains, and everything below a dark silouette against it.
And it was 5:03 when I noticed that day was gone and night had come.
How many weeks/months shall I ride home from work in the dark? Probably until Daylight Savings switches back in the Spring.
Just last week, I was happily riding into the sunrise on my way to work, and into the sunset on my way home.
That's 10 hours of daylight. The days will get even shorter as we approach December.
Not as short as my family in Finland will experience, however.
I'm not exactly sure just how short their winter days are, but I experienced first-hand just how long their summer days are. That's why I always remember them when I consider length of days.
The following was taken in June 2000. Our first evening in Mantsala, Finland. We had finished our dinner, relaxed for a time over coffee with jubilant conversation (maybe this was even the day we celebrated Katriina's birthday), and sometime after 10 PM we decided to take a little neighborhood stroll!
Their summertime dusk doesn't arrive until sometime after midnight. Crazy.
What wonderful memories this photograph conjures.
Our Vermont summer days aren't that long, but I noticed they're considerably longer than they are in Florida.
Ah, but summer is behind us for now.
And I can truly say that while I prefer the longer days, I'm happy that though I ride home from work in the dark, I get up and walk the dogs in morning's first glow while the squirrels scamper across the sparkly, frost-laden ground.