Thursday, January 6, 2011

The black dog

In the middle of winter, it's hard to remember that the sun will shine again, and water will run again and birds twitter around the garden. Catalogs help, but the problem seems to be lack of light--the overwintered plants, fuchsias and the like, have long outgrown the plant lights and are waving weak tendrils around the place hunting for light.

The people around here have the same problem.  I have no idea how folks cope in Scandinavia--the short winter days seem a heavier weight than the counterbalance of long summer days.  Anyhow, that contrast sounds like a formula for bipolar disorder to me, depressed all winter, manic all summer.  I think we have that here in Wisconsin, just not as pronounced, perhaps.

We are trying to lift our spirits by listening to music and getting out for walks and visiting the gym, but the slightest hint of growing green or the sound of water running would do more than 20 gym visits.  Oh Lord, let it be an early spring!

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