Here in the northern hemisphere the vernal equinox just passed and the days are
quickly getting longer. One of my colleagues lives in Stavanger, Norway. Our
team’s semi-weekly standup is at 6:30pm his time, so I’ve been accustomed to
seeing the window in his background be pitch black for the past six months.
But from one meeting to the next, his window went from pitch black to bright.
This led me to think about a basic astronomy question I had never given much
thought to before — just how fast do the days get longer? When Spring comes
and the days are getting longer, how many extra minutes of sunlight do we get
from one day to the next? So I built a little interactive graph that shows how
the length of the day changes as a function of latitude, along with how it
changes from one day to the next:
The vertical dashed lines represent the various solstices and equinoxes. As
expected, for northern latitudes the longest day is on the summer solstice and
the shortest on the winter solstice. On the equinoxes the day is exactly 12
hours no matter what latitude you are at, and this is also when the length of
the day is changing the fastest — unless you are very close to the Arctic
circle (latitude 66.55°).
One of the more interesting features I hadn’t appreciated before is that when
you get close to the Arctic circle, the length of the days is essentially a
zigzag, straight up from the winter solstice all the way to the summer solstice
and back down again.
The math behind it
So what calculations are going into producing these curves?
How long is the Sun up for?
The first thing we need to know is how long the Sun is up for on a particular
day of the year. Spherical astronomy has a useful quantity that lets us
determine this, called the hour angle. The hour angle of an object is the
angle it makes with the meridian (the line across the sky going from north to
south). Converting the hour angle into a unit of time (like hours) tells us
how long it will be before the object crosses the meridian (“transits” in the
astronomical parlance). Since we want the time from rising to setting, the
length of daylight will be twice the amount of time it takes between rising and
transit:
[t_{textrm{daylight}} = 2H left( frac{24 , textrm{hr}}{360^{circ}} right)
= frac{2H}{15^{circ}} , textrm{hr}.]
If we can figure out what the Sun’s hour angle is when it rises, we’ll have the
amount of daylight in a day. To get this, we need to know two things: the
observer’s latitude, which we’ll call (lambda); and the declination of the
Sun, (delta), which is the angle of the Sun above the celestial equator.
A diagram (from Prof. Fiona Vincent) helps to illustrate the setup:
The position of the object we’re interested in is labeled with (X) in this
diagram, and it shows the general case where the object is at some arbitrary
altitude (a) above the horizon. (Note that the latitude is labeled (phi)
in this diagram.)
We know the lengths of all three sides of the triangle and want to find the
angle (H). To do this we can turn to the spherical law of cosines:
[cos (90^{circ} – a) = cos (90^{circ} – lambda) cos (90^{circ} – delta)
+ sin(90^{circ} – lambda) sin (90^{circ} – delta) cos H.]
Since we want to know the hour angle of the Sun when it’s rising, we can set
the altitude, (a), to 0. Solving for (H), this becomes
[H = arccos (-tan lambda tan delta).]
This is the so-called “sunrise equation.”
In order to make use of this equation we now need to
12 Comments
porkloin
I live just a couple hundred miles south of the arctic circle, and personally I hate the time of year where we "accelerate" into the equinoxes (equinoxii?). The rate of change is just too fast and too disruptive, and you _really_ see its effects on people. And then DST comes in and makes it even worse.
The difference as you climb in latitude is really shocking. Even just another 3-400 miles south of here, the rate of change is way less severe.
Anyway nice work and cool article! I've done some of these rough calculations myself before to plot out the change just to verify that I'm not insane for hating this time of year, and you did a way better job than I ever did :)
intalentive
Nice typography. Classy.
lars512
When living in Stockholm, I came to appreciate the various levels of twilight and darkness, rather than thinking of day and night so strictly. The sun being low on the horizon also scatters light across the sky in ways that are very beautiful and last much longer than sunrise and sunset in Australia where I grew up.
madcaptenor
"One of the more interesting features I hadn’t appreciated before is that when you get close to the Arctic circle, the length of the days is essentially a zigzag, straight up from the winter solstice all the way to the summer solstice and back down again."
I had noticed this too and wondered if it was exactly true, with the "zigzag" being straight lines – I thought there might be a simple proof of this fact based on some trig identities. There's not, because it's not true – the lines aren't exactly straight, even if you ignore solar refraction – but it's a very good approximation.
alberth
The graph gets crazy if you move the slider to be 66+ latitude.
Is the graph correct at those extremes? Like North Pole?
aeyes
Unfortunate that the latitude is not allowed to be negative.
kaffekaka
Coming from middle of Sweden I remember the first time I spent a midsummers night in Lund in the south if Sweden and was astonished that the night was in fact dark! In my hometown, well below the arctic circle, the month of June is still constant daylight.
zf00002
I always think of what time is sunrise where I am. Watching it get earlier/later every day by a couple minutes.
bitmasher9
This phenomenon became very interesting to me after moving approximately 14 degrees further north (on the northern hemisphere) and experiencing not just shorter and longer days, but more rapid changes in day length during spring/fall.
The impact this has on daily life is larger than I had anticipated, and in general reducing the intensity of the cycle is a selling point for cities closer to the equator. It’s been nine years since my migration north, and I’ve only moved further north so this isn’t a deal breaker for me. It’s mostly something from my childhood and young adulthood that I took for granted. I’m now eagerly awaiting the day when my normal waking time is during dawn, which should be in early April.
I’m still significantly further south than Northern European countries mentioned in this thread. Maybe life has more moves north for me in store.
euroderf
The seasonal extremes of daylight are so extreme up here in Finland that the cycle of night & day seems a bit less like a 24-hour cycle and a bit more like a 365-day cycle.
An artifact of this is that my 5yo might not see a dark sky for the entire summer, unless we keep him up awake for the traditional Midsummer hangin'-out.
munchler
This is surprising. I had always assumed that the length-of-day function is essentially a sine wave everywhere on the planet, and that the derivative would thus be another sine wave shifted by 90 degrees.
When the day length is maximal/minimal (solstice), the day length change rate is near zero, and vice versa. That's still true in the more accurate model, even though the shape of the functions is more distorted.
jampekka
The calculated daylight even downplays the actual light at the high (or low) latitudes quite a bit. E.g. at latitude 60 there's a "nominal" midsummer night of about four hours, but it doesn't really get dark, as the light from the refraction is quite strong even with the disk not being visible.