The concept of a leap year remains somewhat unfamiliar to me, as I've encountered it only nine times in my life, with tomorrow marking the milestone of the tenth occurrence. Reflecting on events one has experienced infrequently over an extended period prompts thought. It's a peculiar moment when you one looks more closely into such thoughts, blurring the line between philosopher and jester for me. The sheer absurdity of Earth hurtling through space swings my mind between awe and terror. The purpose behind leap years eludes me, and I find myself questioning why they exist. Much like the upcoming April 7 eclipse, leap years are closely connected to our orbit around the sun. They play a crucial role in synchronizing the 12-month calendar with Earth's celestial journey. Every four years, those extra hours accumulate to form a complete 24-hour day. During a leap year, we add an extra day to February, lengthening the month to 29 days. It strikes me as intriguing that my preoccupation with the sun consistently manifests in peculiar and enigmatic ways. The obsession of Nancy Holt's "Sun Tunnels" sculpture compels me to investigate this celestial sphere with heightened intensity, and my captivation shows no signs of slowing down.
Nancy's artwork, centered on the alignment during the Summer and Winter Solstices in northwest Utah, captivates me. The sheer scale of the project and the intricate process involved in its creation are truly remarkable. The provided low-resolution video, almost like a melodic composition, portrays the mesmerizing choreography of concrete being mixed, shaped, and transported over vast distances in Utah. It showcases the incredible achievements possible when humans have clear vision and ample resources. What adds to my enjoyment of the video is its absence of narration; instead, the ambient sounds of trucks in motion, engines revving, and shovels at work. This prompts contemplation about the sound of rare events like leap years or eclipses and even questions the possibility of the sun emitting a sound. A recent article in The New Yorker: What a major solar storm could do our planet references similar inquiries regarding the sun, pondering the potential consequences of a major solar storm on our planet.
This train of thought brought back memories of a 2014 date with a UC Berkeley professor specializing in solar winds. During our date, his conversation revolved around the profound impact of solar winds, a topic I had never considered before. Though, he forgot that he was on a date, I was fascinated to at least learn something I knew nothing about. It was eye-opening to realize that the very star that nourishes us with light could also pose threats. This reflection leads me to consider these "extra" hours, contemplating time and celestial phenomena, especially after crafting this Dispatch—the eighteenth in the series. Much like the intricate construction of the sun tunnels, we find ourselves navigating the complexities of life, constantly building, reframing, and seeking a glimpse of illumination amid the multitude of challenges we face.