Oooh, first day of the third month! Today is the day of videos!
And, apparently, of stories about Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle.
It had snowed lightly overnight and the temperature dropped from hovering around freezing to seventeen degrees; between that and the breeze it was back on with the Carhartts and face mask. The roads were fine outside of town, though they were a bit slick in front of the stop signs in town. And the trail was stable – no greasy mud anywhere and just a couple of ice slicks to worry about on the lower section. Not that Bobbie or I attempted the steep hill of the shortcut!
Bobbie had seen the most recent episode of the Sherlock Holmes with Benedict Cumberbatch – lord alone knows how, I didn’t think it was on Netflix yet, and I’m pretty sure she and Shane don’t have cable – and she was telling me about it. (Can’t wait to see it – Cumberbatch is a stellar choice for Holmes, Martin Freeman makes a perfect Watson, and I’ve been watching and rewatching the old episodes drooling with anticipation over the new season ever since it was announced.)
No – I’m not going to relay what she told me of the episode. I accept spoilers, I don’t engage in them myself.
Anyway. Talk drifted from the shows, movies, and the various actors, to Conan-Doyle himself. A friend of Ivan’s collects old documents, and one of the treasures among his collection is a diary from when Conan-Doyle served as the medical officer aboard a whaling ship (he let me borrow it for a while, along with a copy of the transcribed version of the handwritten pages, and reading those entries is one of the highlights of my recent years).
Now, I’ve known that Conan-Doyle detested Sherlock Holmes and how popular the detective was – he didn’t want to be known for Holmes, he wanted to be remembered for his other work. The ironic thing is, if not for Sherlock Holmes, chances are good he would have faded into obscurity long since.
What I didn’t know was that he was heavily into spiritualism and mediums – Bobbie regaled me with the tales of his beliefs, plus a story of he and Houdini as friends. Conan-Doyle also went on record as believing in fairies when a pair of girls took photos of themselves with fairies in a garden.
Amazing, how you can enjoy a writer’s work and still not know what really makes them tick. Who would have thought that such a strong believer in mediums and spiritualism could have been so effective and brilliant in creating a fact-driven detective who valued rationality above all? (And by saying so, I do recognize the bias on my own part.)
Now without further ado, here is the year-to-date of all the sunrises! (Apologies for the crooked horizons.) And, hey – I figured out how to add each day’s date to the scrolling photo. Cool, huh?
And here is the movement of the horizon under the sun on the mornings of visible sunshine:
Amazing how little the sun moved during January, and then suddenly leaped across the hilltop during the month of February, isn’t it? It’s starting to concern me a bit, actually – I hope I’ve left enough room on the ‘summer’ side of the panoramics to capture the full movement from north to south. I’m fairly sure I have, but I was mostly estimating where east is, comparing that location to where the sun was rising on the first of January, and doubling the horizon to accommodate the movement northward.
Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?