The first few weeks of the new year are usually the darkest. After the high of Christmas (and the blissfully empty time off) comes the brunt of the dark, cold weather with little respite or hope. The days of January and February are the worst for me, with the despair in March if it doesn't show brash signs of becoming spring-like soon enough. The sun is already wandering back toward the west by early afternoon and there's often no sign of it all day. Desolate landscapes powder coated in grey. Death valley and death mountain.
I reluctantly admit that the evenings seem to get pitch black fractionally later but it's not happening fast enough. I'm still not ready to talk about resolutions but my heart's not in it to get them typed up. Maybe next week.
Take care,
Sophie
