I both love and hate this time of year. I like the short days, because I'm a big fan of night-time in general, and I especially like night-time when it's cold and snowy; the kind of environment that makes everything outside look a bit like it's not quite real.
However, at the same time, I won't pretend it's not at least a little depressing to be leaving the house in the morning when it's dark, and returning home when it's also dark. Not that I spend a great deal of time out in the sunshine anyway, but just the bit of daylight you can get on a drive home can be invigorating after a day under the fluorescent lights of the office.
It's also a pain in the arse when you leave the house in the morning and have forgotten it often gets a bit cold in the night, necessitating a bit of scrapey-scrapey action on the windscreen of one's car before being able to go anywhere. Especially if you have left the house without anything warm. Ice is cold.
There's something oddly "festive" about it all though. I associate the early darkness with things from my childhood, like going out carol singing with my mother and the "main characters" of the village I grew up in. I remember wrapping up warm, walking through the village streets and feeling a profound sense of relief and gratitude when someone invited us inside for a mince pie — even though I never really liked mince pies all that much.
I guess on the whole I have slightly more positive feelings about it than negative ones, as I always quite look forward to this time of year rolling around for some reason. And now we're in November I consider it just about okay to start thinking of Christmas being "soon"!
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