Well, here we are folks. It’s late January and we have one more month of gloom, if not more. We haven’t seen much sun for quite some time now. Our faces are pasty white, we’re lacking in Vitamin D, and some of us have dark circles under our eyes. My down jacket has been an extension of my body since November and my clothes are loose from burning so much energy every day to try to stay warm. I think goosebumps are a semi-permanent fixture on me at this point. No, it’s not Greenland, but what will it feel like when I’m 80?
Our boys grew up on the beaches of Santa Barbara. Beach life was life. It was a 7-minute walk from our house, and December meant putting on a windbreaker at the beach. Our younger son had long, white-blond hair and olive-y tan skin in his first two years of life. We look back at photos and we look like different people. Healthy people. It wasn’t possible for us to stay out of the sun. Every day was clear, beautiful, and perfectly sunny weather. We stayed inside when we were sick.
We were all blonds. Now we are all brunettes. Our skin is probably very happy to avoid the sun for four months. Until the first sunny day when we all go out and get burned to a crisp in this thin, more-northern air.
But this is what makes those first beams of light that stream through the gaps in the forest in March so deeply satiating. After that, externality gradually takes over. By August, I’ll be looking toward this dark time again because my soul needs the quiet, the creativity, the time snuggling together with my people.
