Surreptitiously, one might even suggest somewhat sneakily, the mysterious twice biannual hour time change slivered into view and took effect. In the annals of history and the depths of Wikipedia the reasoning’s for this traditional clock dance are quite clearly stated, or kind of clearly, for in the manner of all such longstanding habitual happenstances the exact rationale are somewhat multiplicitous.
I always favored the reasoning that spring forward allowed the farmers an extra hour of daylight, cept of course it doesn’t. Simply advancing the daylight hours by sixty minutes makes no intrinsic difference. Fourteen hours are still fourteen long whenever you decide to start counting, real time is not so easily fooled by base mathematics. ‘Tis odd we all seem to cope quite easily with time zones, when travelling an inch can apparently utterly alter a humans fixed perceptions. Yet having to start work a little earlier bowls an impossibly flighted googly for mankind, but noticeably not any other beast under creation.
This year the changes were far less publicly emphasized, publicized. Business and shops of course reacted with suitable corrections to opening hours as would be expected, because that is the current entirely, after all. Interestingly Hawaii and much of Arizona ignore the great debacle completely, presumably surviving quite adequately being aligned with the solar system.
I am unmoved by the entire process, the sun do after all rise and set upon a universal framework, with no acknowledgement or care for mankind’s petty attempts at interference. I personally sleep when I am tired, awake when ready and willing, eat when hungry. I am my own government and have been these one or two decades. Through no fault of desire of their own, many a chap and chapess have been recently obliged to become self-orientated also, enforced isolation, segregation, quarantine will cause such consequences spontaneously.
Perhaps ‘tis time spring forward and fall back were honorably buried, with many another obsolescent convention from a glorious but redundant past.