I've always preferred standard time as do millions of other people around the world forced to make this cyclic adjustment twice a year.

There's something natural about standard time - the way sunrise and sunset align more closely with the rhythm of the day. My sleep cycle seems to align and adjust days before we move the clocks back.

When we return to standard time, mornings feel brighter, more grounded in the flow of nature.

Daylight Saving Time, with its artificial shift, always feels a bit like we're forcing time to bend to our will.

Standard time restores balance - a reminder that we move best when we follow the natural order rather than trying to control it.

As the clocks fall back and the days grow shorter, there’s comfort in slowing down and in recognizing that light and darkness each have their season and their purpose.

The time-change system remains in place for now - 'falling back' each November and 'springing forward' each March.

If a move to permanent standard time is ever to happen, it will take legislation and the will to overcome political and geographic divides.

Everything tends to be politically driven - apparently even 'time' itself and the 'space' we move through - woven within the illusion of reality accelerating so quickly we hardly have a chance to question or understand the forces shaping our perception.

Like a magician's trick - this rapid pace keeps us distracted, making it easy to accept constructed narratives without realizing how deeply our experience of existence is influenced by unseen forces in the illusion of time.

The NYC Marathon is always held on the Sunday we return to standard time. For as long as I can remember, I've watched the runners crossing the Verrazano Bridge, making their way into Bay Ridge on their journey through the five boroughs of New York City.

Their paths converge here from all corners of the world - a testament to hard work, dedication, and often great personal sacrifice. Yet they arrive on this day, ready to stay the course and finish with pride and dignity.

Most runners say this is the one day each year in New York City when it doesn't matter who you are - your race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or place of origin. The marathon becomes a symbol of unity, bridging the gaps that so often divide us in an increasingly polarized world.

Every runner has their own reason for being there. Some run to prove something to themselves, others to honor loved ones, or to celebrate the shared spirit of determination that defines the marathon.

It's a day that captures the very best of New York - diversity, determination, and heart.

Fittingly, the NYC marathon comes on the morning many places turn the clocks back one hour, including NY. We gain an hour, but in a way, we reclaim more than that - a moment of balance - a return to the natural order of time. Standard time feels grounded, aligned with the rising and setting sun, a reminder that we, too, move best when we follow the rhythm of nature rather than forcing it to match our pace.

This helicopter, displaying some sort of banner advertisement - flew over the area all morning. It was joined by other surveillance and media helicopters - some flying over the park across the street and closer to my apartment than ever before.

Walking along the promenade - one could be entertained by a spray boat putting on its annual display near the Verrazano Bridge. But something was missing this year - the water was not in shades of red, white and blue. Is America no longer feeling patriotic?

Although I was in my apartment - water from the boat came so close I got wet as the wind blew it in my direction - remnants of the northeaster three days ago.

Here's a quick video of runners crossing the bridge. Lots of helicopters buzzing around all morning which seemed to confuse the birds - one of which was momentarily captured in my video.

The first runners came into view as they crossed over the Verrazano Bridge - streaming over both the upper and lower levels as the bridge itself seemed to shimmy to the rhythm of their pounding footsteps.

As new racers poured onto the bridge they seemed to create a harmonic perhaps echoing out to sea or into space. Some say the bridge is more than an engineering marvel - that it serves as a kind of gateway to 'the other side'. Its cables hum like musical strings, its twin arches rising like tuning forks, amplifying the resonance between earth and sky.

With the nearby obelisk standing in silent alignment, it all feels in perfect harmony as if New York itself were attuned to the opening of the Great Egyptian Museum yesterday, bridging ancient energy with the pulse of present moments.

Some say the bridge is more than an engineering marvel - that it serves as a kind of gateway to the 'other side.' Its cables hum like musical strings, its twin arches rising like tuning forks, amplifying the resonance between earth and sky.

Stopping under the exit ramp of either side of the bridge - one experiences a kind of kinetic energy transmitted through the structure - a tangible vibration connecting the runners 'above' with those standing 'below'.

With a panoramic view of the Giza plateau, the Grand Egyptian Museum houses thousands of artifacts spanning more than 5,000 years of Egyptian antiquity at a whopping cost of over $1 billion. More than two decades in the making, the ultra-modern museum anticipates five million visitors annually, with never-before-seen relics on display.

Ellie remembering ... The pic above aligns with my connection to the Sierpinski Triangle fractal (creation by algorithmic design), extraterrestrials, and sacred hybrid bloodlines (blue bloods), that I've blogged about since the beginning ... of Crystalinks.

Ancient Egypt Index

Once upon a time ...