I love autumn, the crisp, bright days, the leaves, the bonfires, but it passes all too quickly. Winter? I’m undecided as yet. I’m turning the lights on earlier and earlier and soon it will be dark by 4.30.
I am torn. On the upside, it’s not hot, so no bright red face, sudden weakness or behaving like a demented vampire. I can now stay outdoors for longer than an hour without melting. And when I get tired, there’s no shame in curling up on the sofa with a good book and the remote control come 6pm, as it’s just what most of us do in the winter. I am glad the summer nights are over. It’s unspeakably sad to watch the world go by with your nose pressed against the window.
The flip side though, is being the only adult in the house. The evenings are endless. The clock slows down. I flit from one thing to another, unable to settle properly. It’s astounding how dark it is outside. Darkness does strange things to the mind. Small problems are magnified and big problems seem insurmountable. Old fears seep out like vapour.
Perhaps I have too much time on my hands to think about everything and nothing. I am in an odd limbo-land; still working for two months for the company that sacked me (for having MS). I want to celebrate, feel free, take a deep breath and thank God I am no longer there. But that’s on hold right now until just before Christmas.
Mind you, I used to live in a Nordic country, where it was dark by 3pm in the winter, wasn’t light the next morning until 10 and alcohol was shockingly expensive. Now, that really was grim.