I hate daylight savings time. If ever I become independently wealthy and no longer have to pour my efforts into making a living, I will dedicate some disposable portion of my efforts and energy into repealing America’s participation in daylight saving time. What does it do? How does it help? It only throws everyone into mild but meaningless chaos two times a year. This is particularly true for Alaska. Our seasons and our sunrises/sunsets are already so radical; DST just seems to exacerbate the already bumpy slide down to near total darkness. On Friday, when I went home from work, the sun set a 5:05 PM. Today, the sun will set at 3:48. Night falls. It’s kind of depressing to walk home from school with Jacob in the dark.

Speaking of depressing, I read a Nick Jans article in Alaska Magazine sometime last year called “The Wall.” In that article, Jans described this uniquely Alaskan phenomenon of reaching one’s breaking point of cold and darkness and having the overwhelming desire to run screaming back to sun and warmth and home in the lower 48. What was interesting about the article is that Jans observed that this wasn’t something that happened the first winter; it usually happened after the third, fourth or fifth winter. It is disconcerting to think that we have sailed right through these first few winters, but that the wall might be lurking somewhere in front of us.

As it is, February is a hard month. I think Stephanie has expressed a desire to move south every February since we’ve lived in Alaska. But then comes April and May and summer, glorious summer. There is nothing like it. It reminds me of a Northern Exposure episode in which Joel Fleischman gets on Arctic time and goes days with uninterrupted wakefulness and abundant energy, giving Maurice the idea to tout Alaska and the solution to America’s collective depression: “Cicely, Alaska: God’s health spa.” Indeed.

Or as Chris in the Morning so elequently said, "Who would've thought such a slight tilt in our earthly axis could make such a big difference in our lives. But the big wheel keeps on turning, and here we go again looking in the sweet face of darkness."

8 degrees, dark, and clear.