Coming Out of Darkness

Hang in there, baby! Spring is coming!

I suspect I’ll never get used to winters in Seattle, after having spent the bulk of my life in Jacksonville, Florida. As of this writing, the sun in Seattle is finally setting after 5 pm again, and that is reason enough for a celebration. In the summer, we get 16 hours of daylight, but in the depths of winter, we’re forced to make do with 8 ½ hours, and that takes its toll on one’s psyche. (And yet I probably sound like a whiny b**** to all the Alaskans out there.)

In the winter here, I feel like I’m holding my breath, keeping my head down, and just trying to make it through to sunnier times again. There’s just something wrong with going to work in the dark and coming home in the dark. By right about now, I’ve usually pretty much had it with darkness. My patience gets about as short as the days are. So seeing sun after 5 pm gives me hope. I say to myself, “Hang in there, baby! Spring is coming! Eventually you’ll get to pack away your SAD light for the season! And your winter clothing! And your windshield frost blocker!”

In Jacksonville, there is only about 4 hours of difference in the amount of daylight from summer to winter. Anyone should be able to cope with that. But I still don’t miss the blistering heat or the politics, so I’ll choose Seattle every time, even if this city does require various accessories and a certain strength of will to muddle through the dark times.

An attitude of gratitude is what you need to get along. Read my book! http://amzn.to/2mlPVh5

Advertisement

Author: The View from a Drawbridge

I have been a bridgetender since 2001, and gives me plenty of time to think and observe the world.

8 thoughts on “Coming Out of Darkness”

  1. In Fairbanks I recall watching the sun come up and wondering if it was gonna make it. Just an hour north or so, it wouldn’t have. In Anchorqge in summer I recall staying up later than planned waiting for it to get dark [it didn’t.] Ultimately, though, it was the multitude of bookstores and libraries that brought me back to Cascadia, to discover other wonders such as bridges that lift. Say, you hear about Bezos’ latest stunt, in Rotterdam? “The Hef” will have to be taken apart just so he can get his yacht out on the water. Supposedly the people will be able to put it back together again, but still. I wonder if there’s a relationship tween amt of money and likelhood of becoming a colossal jerk, at least in the show-off sense.
    No, I don’t shop at Amazon.

  2. I did the opposite. Raised in winter conditions harsher than yours but moved to the southwest. Adjustment to longer daylight periods and milder seasonal changes was quick. Even so, I yearn for more thunderstorms and fewer days where the sun burns so hot and bright it washes out contrast and details while leaving skin so dry I wish it could moult. I look forward to crisp, cool, shorter autumn days, which come later in the season each year thanks to climate change. In spite of these discomforts, I wouldn’t go back to the upper mid west. Here, if I missed snow, I could drive 45 minutes east to the mountains and visiting the ocean is 30 minutes to the west. No one location could give the perfect balance of seasonal and geographical diversity and comfort I crave, but I’ve grown to accept the less desirable conditions with sun glasses, lotion and videos of rain storms on the hottest, driest days. The bad just makes me appreciate the good all the more. Hope you eventually become acclimated to the conditions that plague you now. Till then, breath through it and maybe it will pass faster and you won’t turn blue in the process. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-kxQd7XF37E 🙂

    1. I do love this area 3/4ths of the year. I particularly love spring and fall, because in Florida I went 40 years without experiencing those seasons. And summer here is a pure tonic. (Except when there are wildfires.) I try to think of winter as the price I pay for the rest of the year, and in that context, it’s worth it. I’ll keep trying to send rain your way. We’re full up, here.

  3. The rich tend to reflect the size of their egos with the size of their toys. Thls yacht owner is probably thinking the bridge doesn’t need to be so damned low and how can I compete with Bezos yacht/bridge stunt? Why is it I think Bozo when I hear Bezos? I hear some have dubbed him Lex Luthor. Seems appropriate.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: