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For most people, changing over into Daylight Savings Time is no big deal. I am not most people. For me, this setting my clocks an hour ahead feels like tumbling down the rabbit hole.

For 12 years, I lived in Arizona, one of only two states in the union that don’t participate in Daylight Savings Time (the other is Hawaii). Arizona likes to stay out of step with the rest of the country like that. In Arizona, time is as permanent as stone. But here, in the Northwest, time feels imaginary; less like the drumbeat of the universe and more like something we invented. If time can change, is anything absolute? Those immutable stones crumble into dust.

I understand the theory behind moving the hands of the clock back an hour in the fall and forward in the spring. But the awkward biannual shift shows that no matter how much we try to impose human limits and rules on the world, the world plays by its own. We can change our clocks, but can’t change when the sun will rise and set. There comes a time when we have to accept that we have less control than we thought.

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Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA adrift in the streams of time. When he isn’t busy figuring out how to change the clock in his car, he tweets a lot. Thanks for reading!

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