As your world brightens, mine becomes darker.
At 40 S, the sun makes a brief appearance around nine in the morning and sets no later than eight. That is on a good day. Most days this time of year are various shades of grey. Steely, to bluish, with massive clouds that threaten snow but never deliver. For better or for worse, the nearby coastal breezes keep our temperatures above freezing on all but the coldest mornings. The muted days, however, are nothing compared to the darkness of night. Living outside the aura of city lights, night engulfs the little glow worm that is our house. Only a small perimeter of fallen leaves, piled wood, and plants waiting for Spring can be seen from the light that leaks from our home.
Now is the time for hibernation, baked goods, warm reds by the fire. I think that here every season challenges us. Spring is incredibly wet, summer is at times unbearably hot and dry, fall warns of winter, and winter is dark. But with the challenges come the reward, technicolor mosses and iridescent flowers, sunny days to jump in the river, crisp breezes smelling of apples, and coziness. Winter is the only season when we can actually snuggle under the covers. When the cold teaches us to appreciate warmth. When the dark allows us to revel in the light.
