I miss the sun.
It seems like such a little thing, but really, our whole lives revolve around our planet’s cycle around that fiery globe. Our planting seasons, sleep schedules – despite our electric lightbulbs and round-the-clock shifts, everyone’s more chipper when they’re getting their vitamin D. The ancient Greeks put much stock in Apollo’s riding his chariot to usher the sun across the sky each day.
This time of year, I desperately miss the sun’s warmth and light.
Where I live, seasons are regular. We are suffering an appropriate winter – south-central Massachusetts got about a foot of snow over the weekend. This morning my watch cheerfully informed me that it “feels like -10” outside. Which is, you know, my favorite. So suffice it to say that up here in New England, winter’s in full swing. What’s the worst of it, for me, is the lack of sunlight.
When I drive into work in the morning, it’s pitch black. By the time I leave work for the day, it’s dusk. I can glimpse the sun through the far window in our department, but that’s the extent of our relationship until April. I am always tired. It’s like this every winter. I spend months just waiting, waiting for the sunlight to come back. To shine on me, and the world around me. To melt the snow and prompt my snarky watch to say “feels like 70”.
Every day, there’s a minute or two more of light.
Every day, we get closer to spring.
I just have to make it until the end of March. Then everything will be beautiful again.