When the pale light fades

62.45°N

It isn’t as far north as I would love to live, but it is still an environment I love a lot. The days are short by any normal standard of living, but I wish they were shorter.
Waking up after 9 and getting a cup of hot coffee in my hands to stand at the window and watch magnificent winter sunrises that last forever is something I will always cherish of this place.

Finally some centimetres of snow fell over the weekend, likely burying any last remaining clear lake ice. It feels so wrong that we reach winter solstice in under one month already. Like the short days of always golden sunlight, orange clouds, and midday twilight just don’t last long enough.

How can you make sense of this overwhelming love of winter? The deprivation of sunlight giving deeper meaning to the presence of it maybe. Feeling the sunlight hit my face this time of year is magical. Just like all of winter, those little moments slow me down to absorb more. Molasses, ginger, cardamom and allspice bring this comforting warmth inside, and I am sure coffee never tastes better. Warmth of a candle or a car vent mean so much. I crave to sleep a lot, and to be wrapped up in soft and cosy fabrics.

So for this feeling of home which the depth of winter brings me? Maybe it is the sharp contrasts leading to greater recognition. More conscious recognition and loving-on. The dark and the light, the warm and cold, like drinking a hot coffee sitting in -33°. Maybe it is something more innate, something in my bones or my soul, or something picked up somewhere along my way.

But for right now with tired eyes in dim lighting, I tuck away in my linen bedding, pushing aside half a mountain of pillows, and in 7 hours maybe I’ll be awake for sunrise, but maybe I’ll sleep right through it. Either way it’s okay, because winter is for slowing down and staying cosy. So let the winter winds blow, the snow drifts grow, and the dim window lights continue to glow.