Lies the Sun Told Us

Northern Scotland missed the section in Genesis where God appointed the sun to rule over the day. Or at least that's what it has felt like for the last week here.

We arrived on a Tuesday, just prior to New Year's Eve and the world was relatively sunny. Sure, Scotland only has roughly 6 hours of sunlight at this time of the year, but at 11 am we could see the sun peeking out behind the clouds.

And then it went away.

Since then our brief days have been filled with an almost consistent rain (varying from indiscernible to the eye mist to proper and hard rain), borderline freezing temperatures, and gale force winds. There's a gnawing sadness and inability to feel warm or awake permeating the world.

I don't mind the short days, but I need it to be day. I need the sun to shine periodically. My days and nights are all mixed up. The sun lied when it said it would shine. I've stopped checking the weather forecasts because their gloominess is only adding to mine.

The outside world looks like how depression feels. The gray stretches on infinitely into the gray horizon, punctuated only by darker grays heralding more rain. The cold rain numbs the skin, working like an anesthetic against any attempts to be warm and dry. The howling wind blurs all other sounds until all you can hear is its drowning roar. We're torn between wanting to stay asleep all day and wanting to see people, often with the sleep winning.

I want the sun back. I need the sun back, even if for a little bit.

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