The Light At The End Of The Tunnel

Finally, the end of winter is approaching (thirty three days and counting). Snow patches still cover the ground, and the threat of further snow will hang in the air until April, though the sun’s warmth is being felt on my skin, and its power can already penetrate icy pavements and playgrounds. More significantly, and to the delight of many, the days are much longer.

During the months around Christmas, darkness pervaded the day, and daylight was scant. The only perceptible difference between going to and coming home from work was the direction taken. It was dark and depressing. Both Jo and I went into a state of hibernation. Not long after taking the children to bed, we would go to our bedroom, watch an episode of some series we were wading through, and fall asleep ourselves. It was rare to be awake after 10.30, even at the weekends in my case. On the upside, this meant getting seven to nine hours of sleep, which meant very few days of waking up still tired, but with so few hours awake, there was a definite feeling of work, eat, sleep, repeat.

Now, though, light is chiseling away the gloom both externally and internally. This has not yet meant a change in our sleeping routines, only a change in atitude to the mornings. I feel much happier leaving home with Freya and Zela at 7 in the morning, without the aid of street lamps to assist my walk to the train station.

The legnthening of daylight has not yet affected the afternoons in a similar way. But the best is yet to come.