One of the good things about our recent run of warm weather and clear skies is being able to go outdoors comfortably after dark. Lots of things are happening out there.
By Bill Lawyer
One of the good things about our recent run of warm weather and clear skies is being able to go outdoors comfortably after dark. Lots of things are happening out there.
In Rye, from November through February darkness descends very early. How early? Well, on November 1 the day was ten hours and 26 minutes long. On December 22, the shortest day of the year, there were only nine hours and 15 minutes of daylight.
Compare this with the upcoming summer solstice of 2016, when the day will be 15 hours and five minutes long!
Now, some people look at the down side of this “short days” astronomical fact. Frank Sinatra sang in melancholy tones about “the days dwindling down to a precious few” in his classic “September Song.” Poet Dylan Thomas urged us to “Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” And for the most part, we do.
Throughout the world people celebrate the winter solstice’s return of the lengthening hours of daylight, however gradual it may be. I admit that I am among those who can’t have the days grow longer soon enough. I’m a morning person, and I find it hard to get going when it’s pitch black at 6:30 a.m.
Rather than sitting around complaining about the darkness, however, I try to make the most of it. This past fall we had full moons on October 27 and November 25, and one on Christmas night. This year, winter full moons arrive on January 24 and February 22.
Unless you live in a deep forest, the full moon nights are bright enough to see things fairly well, once your eyes adjust — and if the sky is clear. Thus, even though the brightest full moons don’t compare with bright streetlights, they enable people to engage in all sorts of nocturnal activities.
One well-known example of this is the “harvest moon,” the September or October full moon. Farmers anxious to get their crops harvested before rainy or cold weather arrives could work out in the fields under the moonlight with no difficulty.
From a natural history point of view the longer the nights the more nocturnal animals you can see. Several times over the years I’ve been out at night at Rye Town Park when flocks of wild geese went flying by, in V-formation, heading south. Once I even saw a flock of snow geese flying by as I came out of CVS.
Walking my dog at night we’ve encountered voles, rabbits, skunks, and raccoons. Somewhat harder to see, but very easy to recognize by their call, are great horned owls.
And then there are the deer.
If the unusually mild weather continues through the rest of winter, we’ll no doubt be seeing a lot of animals that would normally be totally or partially hibernating.
During the long nights when the moon is waning or new, we have more time to see the many planets and stars that work their way across our firmament.
The three most visible winter constellations are Orion the hunter, Ursa Minor (which contains the Pole Star), and Ursa Major. As you gaze at the constellations, think about the fact that thousands of years ago Greek astronomers were laying the groundwork for our ability to get humans on the moon and unmanned satellites exploring the outer edge of our solar system.
When I was growing up, my friends and I were allowed to stay outside playing up until suppertime, even though darkness had fallen by 5. (Shooting hoops with very little visibility puts neighborhood kids to the real test of their B-ball-ability.)
On a more romantic level, moonlight has always been associated with couples finding opportunities to “spoon” by the light of the silvery moon. What is spooning? Look it up!
Ice-skating on a frozen pond, tobogganing down a golf course hill, or building a snowman are some of the winter nocturnal activities that can lead to the need for cuddling.
And, of course, it’s a marvelous night for a moon dance.
