One of my favourite contributors was describing yesterday how the dark days of December were taking their toll on his ability to photograph the avian visitors to his garden. I knew exactly what he meant. I find that no sooner is it light enough to see properly, I prepare and eat some lunch while reading blogs, and then the light is fading again. With no sense of discipline, I have not been out for a walk, have only just managed the vacuum cleaning and it is already too dark to capture the robin on the bird table. This lack of sunlight always brings on a sense of melancholy for me. The shortening days remind me of the shortening years. Time does go faster you know as you get older and proves the point that time is a relative thing. A week spent abroad in some exciting new destination always seems shorter than a boring week at work. When you are ten years old, one year is a tenth of your life and when you are sixty, one year is, well just another year.
Nevertheless, we are soon approaching the shortest day, the longest night. Night merging into day which struggles to shrug off the gloom and all of a sudden, the sun seems to have got lost, lost somewhere behind that grey mantle of cloud. A week, that’s all and then Hallelujah! the days will start to lengthen again. Yes, I know it’s still the beginning of winter but we will have turned the corner and Christmas is full of light anyway; which gives me an opportunity to show my little contribution to the illuminations –
“Time is an illusion” ― Albert Einstein