When Steve and I left the house at 6.15am this week for our thrice weekly early morning swim sessions, there was just the tiniest hint of pre-dawn light edging into the sky to the east. 'So what', you might be thinking. Well, it made me smile, and the reason for that is, that a find the long dark nights and the short days of mid winter very trying. Much as I do try not to wish my life away, considering that time starts to pass very quickly as one grows older anyway, but I find the winter hard and miserable and never ending. This is why I love our winter holiday in St Moritz where the tourist office claim that they have well over three hundred days of sunshine per year, as opposed to the storm after storm, after storm that we have suffered in the UK. Imogen, being the last named storm at this stage and that made her, (Little Madam) number nine.
I wrote this light hearted piece sitting by a sunny window looking out toward the mountains in the Engadin Valley in Switzerland.
The Shortest Day
The shortest day
I have to say
Pleases me
Because you see
Dark is still here
But it is with sheer
Delight to me to know
Short days will slowly go
One by one they’ll fade
To long winter, put paid
The long journey of the sun
Is now over and done
The solar ticket is paid
Return not to be delayed
For very much longer
My heart already stronger
My spirit lifted high
My relief heard in a sigh
Wicked winter half way gone
Spring will soon be upon
Us all with flowers bright
But more importantly,
With LIGHT!
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