Lots of places in the world are dark. I expect the bottom of the Marianas Trench is pretty dim. Dark side of the moon? Probably not an ideal vacation spot. But I defy anyone to find a dark like the dark days of January in Chicago.
It’s dark when you wake up, it’s dark when you leave for work and it’s dark when you drive home. You never fully wake up, except when you accidentally put your foot in a puddle of icy water getting out of your car.
The excitement of the holidays is long gone. Naked of all the decorations, my house looks like it was robbed. The call of fuzzy pajamas, a big fluffy blanket and binge-watching Turner Classic Movies is almost too much to resist.
But to quote Sondheim, “If life were only moments, then you’d never know you had one.” Do we need the miserable, bleak days of January to fully appreciate the sun? Would Chicagoans be so manic about attending a street festival every single weekend of summer if we didn’t know that it would soon be dark again?
I feel sorry for people who live in “perfect” weather. Really, I do. They’ll never know the all-consuming joy that comes with the dawn of a glorious summer day.
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