Above all else plants respond to light. Contemplating the magical internal machinery that ensures plants adapt to the changing seasons Monty Don has this to say:
"We can mollycoddle winter seedlings, use mulches, cloches and fleece and windbreaks to keep them cosy. But none of this is any good without enough light. It is not the chill in the evening air or the lashing autumn rain that carries the message, or even the weak sunshine, but the subtlest changes in day length. I in my profoundly unscientific way, find this astonishing. Falling light overrides fine weather, and increasing light makes it worth the risk of ignoring the cold and putting on growth. That a flower can tell the difference between a day of hot Indian summer sun and a modestly mild one that has half an hour more daylight is spooky." Monty Don, My Roots, p.225
I'm less astonished. I'm pretty sure humans respond in much the same way. Having just moved back to Yorkshire from Scotland even the extra 15-20 minutes or so of extra daylight we get down here already makes the winter seem less intimidating and increases energy levels. I was reflecting on Monty's quote today. I have just started to train seriously for the 2010 London Marathon. A few weeks ago I tried my first longer 12m+ run via a route I love out across Stanage Edge. I tried it again today. By half way through the run I felt like I had much less energy and 'psychological drive' than I had a fortnight ago. Last time the wind was stronger, I had cycled a long way the day before and it was more of an 'unknown quantity.'
So I was trying to figure out the difference. And the main one was the light. Today at 3.00 it felt like twilight. Low dark clouds were blocking out any of the dwindling daylight that was there. Last week at a similar time, althought it was wet and windy the clouds were high and there was a brightness to the sky that made the wet, wind and cold invigorating. Today it felt like running at night. If I was a plant I think I'd probably shove any remaining energy into a nice cosy bulb in the ground and wait till the days were longer till I came back out again. Not being a plant I'm instead anticipating a wet winter with lots of 'doing the miles' round the dark streets of Sheffield. I think I might come back as a daffodil.
