Published on 12, July, 2020
Anyone else have this?
Where most look forward to ever more daylight, it's around now that I start to miss in advance the clear delineation between day and night. That first evening leaving work and it's still daylight depresses me profoundly in a way I can't quite explain. The aggressive insistence of Spring I suppose.
I'm really going to miss my 4.30 pm twilights, but I suppose if we had our personal favourite seasons (autumn/winter in my case) all year round we'd never appreciate them to the extent we do.
Anyone else understand/have this reversal of the more conventional form of SAD? It's not that I won't get *something* out of the warmer months of flourishing nature, but witnessing Spring's birthpains is like an assault on the senses. Daffodils kind of disgust me - they're so raw, the early shock troops of the season, forced out of the soil into cold harsh misery and screaming in pain. Crocuses too. Like the visual equivalent of being near chopped raw onions or something. Snowdrops at least look more pleasant and delicate, but they're so impertinently 'early' - can we just have winter for now please, thanks? Anyone get this, or am I just sounding insane?
I don't know if this will sound bizarre, or not. Whilst I find longer days more convenient when I have the energy and motivation to tackle my jungle of a garden and can feel the benefits of getting a dose of Vitamin D from the sun, I do seem to prefer the shorter days during the winter months.
However, I know that if I was working, it would depress me if I was having to get up before it was light outside, and not returning home until after it had started to get dark.
Fair enough. One of my favourite things is that point in the year where I arrive at work in the dark and leave in it too. I’m not sure I can explain it. It’s just sensory I suppose. The dark comforts me more than the stark exposure of light.