We spotted a temporal anomaly while virtually re-visiting the charming Danish village of Solvang, California via Google Street View.  Facing south, the clocks on the downtown street corner proclaim that it's 2:20.  Facing north, it's 9:49.  From the east and west, it's 12 36.  Amazingly, when you virtually cross the intersection via Google Street View, it takes about 4 and a half hours according to the clock.  Note the clock faces as you wait at the red light, then click forward and marvel at how long that light lasted!  (Note: don't click too far down the road, or you'll zoom too far forward.  Click just in the intersection itself so as to inch forward.  You may or may not have to rotate slightly to see the clock on your left.)

Our last visit to Solvang found us spending the night in a haunted clock tower, and we made a video about the bizarre experience.

Temporal anomaly investigator Andrew Gustar spotted this clock tower in Ambleside, England, where it's simultaneously 7:20 and 2:25.  Without more context, we can't diagnose the issue, but not everything needs a tidy explanation.  

We spotted a temporal anomaly at Harrisonburg's James Madison University.  But we couldn't get anywhere near the clock in question to diagnose the cause of the time slip.  Have you ever tried to park at a university?  Because we couldn't investigate further, we made this collage; it's meaningless, but the anomaly seemed to warrant us dedicating some of our time to it, one way or another.

Not only is there a cat person (he looks nice, too), but you'll have alreary noticed the bonus temporal anomaly.  (Glad our guidance is making a difference in your temporal anomaly investigatory skills!)  From Western Carolina's 1957 yearbook.

We encountered a great many temporal anomalies in Martinsburg, West Virginia.  This one, at a school, warmed our heart on a very cold day, because both clocks showing different (and wrong) times meant that school was probably out early.  (Classroom education, obviously, is one of society's very most dunderheaded notions.)

"Time cannot be bound by any means and remains unchanged as it is" (Oneness of the Being).  Photo courtesy of Anthony Jauneaud.

We encountered a temporal anomaly in Jenkintown, Pennsylvania.  At 4 p.m., it was simulaneously 1:25 and 10:31.  We passed this anomaly on our way to visit a family member at a neurological rehabilitation clinic, and in the hallway outside his room was a framed painting (eerie! bizarre!) featuring an obscured element.  Could the obscured element be a gold pocket watch, in the tradition of Salvador Dalí's famous melting timepiece hanging off a branch in "Persistence of Memory"?  If so, we'll credit this painting for triggering temporal anomalies in the area.  By the way, we overheard a physical therapist saying that she had to time a patient's treatment according to her stopwatch because none of the clocks on the floor were in agreement.

We're nearly three decades late with this news item about a temporal anomaly, but why not?  Via UFO Newsclipping Service, 1991.

The city of An Oghmagh, Northern Ireland seems to exist within a rift in the fabric of time/space.  Temporal anomalies documentarian Kenneth Allen offers three proofs.  The first occurs at the troubling intersection of two streets with the same name (that's always playing with fire), and the clock (four hours early) is situated below a word missing its apostrophe.  (Grammatical anomalies may, for reasons still foggy, trigger temporal anomalies all on their own.)  Two "Campsie" streets, two (or more?) "Charlies" ... it's all a lot for the time to keep up with.  The second proof is of a clock that proclaims "3:17" at 11:00 a.m.  The third proof is of a clock displaying "6:15" at 11:30 a.m.  For any would-be time travelers, An Oghmagh offers a city-wide portal.

Some of the most amazing things happen around 9:73 in the morning.  Many of us call it "the better part of the day."  Photo courtesy of temporal anomaly investigator Dipurinku.

Some of the very best things happen at this time.  Top photo courtesy of temporal anomaly investigator Jessie Essex, bottom courtesy of TheKarenD.

It's simultaneously 10:30 and 2:45 in Gullbringusysla, Iceland.  This temporal anomaly was documented by Anthony Stanley, who blamed windy conditions.  Though we weren't on location to verify a meteorological cause for the timely weirdness, we spotlight this photo to help hone the insights of would-be investigators of temporal anomalies.  The more clocks one sees that are "on the fritz" (Fritz being the German clockmaker who first went "cuckoo"), the better attuned one will be to time warps in the wild.

It's simultaneously 6:15 and 8:40 at this clock tower in Santa Ana, documented by Richard Habeck at 6:56.  Though we weren't on location to discover the exact cause of the timely weirdness, we spotlight this photo to help hone the insights of would-be investigators of temporal anomalies.  The more clocks one sees that are "on the fritz" (Fritz being the German clockmaker who first went "cuckoo"), the better attuned one will be to time warps in the wild.

We experienced a temporal anomaly after spending the night at the haunted clock tower in Solvang.

Arman's "L’Heure de Tous" sculpture at the Saint Lazare train station has created temporal anomalies not only in Paris but all across Europe and even parts of Turkey.  Though we are proponents of art in general, we must formally denounce this particular sculpture for its recklessness with the fabric of spacetime.  Photos by Juanedc and Vincent Aguerre.  

The clock at the library in downtown Salem, Virginia evinces a temporal anomaly.  It stands between the big library building and a Little Free Library installation along the sidewalk.  You'll have noted the macrocosm/microcosm at play, as we did.  There is a vacuum between macrocosm and microcosm, "a void of apparent godlessness" (Franklyn Wepner).  You'll recall Isaac Newton and René Descartes' watchmaker analogy that argued for the existence of an intelligent designer of a mechanical universe.  In a void of such a watchmaker ... well, QED.