looking up green in front y shaped through the leaves sun lower moon

It’s that time of year.  We are dragging ourselves out of bed, lost without the morning sun’s guidance.  The washing needs to be brought in earlier and earlier.  I know the precise times because, like last year and the year before and the year before that, at this time of year, my most visited website becomes sunrise and sunset dot com.

It’s probably even exactly the same day in May when, after unpegging the washing and folding it into the basket, I stand in the still and cold back garden, watch the last of the fiery sun vanish into the west, then trudge gloomily to my desk to trawl through those sunrise and sunset times yet again.  I see – spirits sinking – that yet again, the mornings will grow darker and the afternoons shorter.

However, come the winter solstice, whilst those mornings stay drearily dark well into July, the afternoon grows magically, quietly one minute longer with each passing day.  Then, when I’ve scrolled to the end of August, I see that the sun will be with us until almost 6pm and my breath catches with a little sob of relief.  From that moment, I know we will be dancing back into the light.

It’s not the cold I mind.  Not at all.  I love the cold and all its pretty accoutrements – jumpers and quilts and shawls and gloves and hats, frosty windows and temperatures that bite at our cheeks, sparkling grass and bare trees, steaming stoves with their stews and soups and puddings.  It’s bliss, all of it.

But I hate losing the light.  I don’t think I ever really noticed it in Brisbane.  But here in Melbourne – oh I struggle to keep my chin up when the days are short and dark.  I know, you’ve heard it before, but I’m so looking forward to when we move back to the East Coast – we’ll gain an extra half hour every morning – yes!  I know this, because I read the sunrises and sunsets in Merimbula as well.

So, what shall I do?  I’ll drink another cup of tea.  Light more lamps and candles.  Listen to music that makes me dream of driving along the coast with the windows down, the sun bobbing cheerily in front of us, and the volume turned up nice and loud (I find fun.’s Carry On is always good for lifting the spirits :-) Make sure there’s plenty of loveliness to keep me occupied each day – the felt below is making my heart sing a little stronger.

And linger in those sunsets we are blessed with.  Only 40 days to go before we begin to turn back folks, 40 days.


losing the light

3 thoughts on “losing the light

  • May 13, 2014 at 4:38 am

    Our lives are mirroring each other…I am REJOICING….embracing and savoring every minute of sunlight now that the earth has turned us toward the sun once again…We slept with the windows open for the first time last night..I awoke at 430 am to birds singing in the trees..Oh Lili! I wish I could share!!! But..soon enough…in fact, the sun will face your side of the world again..Until then, I will think of you when I see the sunrise and sunset and say a little prayer for you to be passing the dark days in the lightness and love of your sweet family!

  • May 14, 2014 at 11:13 pm

    Being on the other side of the world, I’m so grateful to the added light we’re getting each day, it’s so lovely. Enjoy the cosiness of dark evenings whilst you can :)

  • May 16, 2014 at 3:05 am

    Although we are now heading into summer here in the UK, I do sympathise with how you’re feeling right now Lily. I always enjoy the anticipation of Autumn and Winter, but in the depths of a cold Winter, when those dark afternoons and mornings really kick in, I feel all energy leave me and all I really want to do is hibernate until the Spring arrives again.

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