Reflections on a day without daylight
On Wednesday morning I awoke to darkness. When I made my coffee it was still dark. At breakfast, still dark. On my 10 o’clock call I carried my laptop into the yard to show my colleagues, “Look, it’s still dark.”
It was around this time that #bladerunnersf started trending, as the Bay Area realized that the supernatural mix of fog, smog and smoke from nearby wildfires wasn’t going to clear, and the earth’s lightswitch wasn’t getting flicked on, today.
After being trained for 12,000 days that in the morning there is light, to reach lunchtime and have it feel like night was unsettling. No amount of travel and jet lag could compare. That winter in Alaska? Maybe. But at least I expected it. This was different. This was 2020. Pandemics and politics. Wildfires and WTFs. Why was I surprised?
After lunch, my girlfriend, Dana, and I decided to walk to the beach to witness the surreal conditions. We passed the local ding repairman, fixing surfboards in his garage. Our neighbor stopped to let her dog sniff a telephone pole. We got to the sand and watched some glassy waves peel toward shore. A surfer walked by. Dana linked her arm in mine and leaned into me. “Should we get back to work?” she asked.