Long isolation from calendars makes people lose track of the date entirely.

Evidence

We have lost count of time, and can only agree on the fact that the date is somewhere near the end of November. Our life has settled down into serenity, and our singular and enforced partnership is very pleasant. We might be three men living together, but for the unvarying courtesy and consideration which they show to me. Our work goes on like clockwork; the only difficulty which ever arises is that the men do not like me to do anything that they think hard or unsuitable, such as saddling a horse or bringing in water. The days go very fast; it was 3:30 to-day before I knew that it was 1. It is a calm life without worries. The men are so easy to live with; they never fuss, or grumble, or sigh, or make a trouble of anything. — Isabella L. Bird, A Lady’s Life in the Rocky Mountains, 236

Categorization

• SEED: Essay angle: ‘We Have Lost Count of Time’ — how enforced solitude dissolves clock and calendar, and what that does to a person’s sense of self.
• XREF: Connects to other frontier/wilderness diaries where dates become approximate; also to A Midwife’s Tale, where Martha Ballard’s diary entries anchor time to weather and work rather than dates.