Seasonal Affected Disorder

Awake in the darkness, curtains are not drawn, sky a deep Prussian blue, with no sign of the dawn. Daybreak six fifty-five, two more hours to go 'till sunrise at the speed of thawing winter snow. Window slightly ajar, letting in the night's hush, dawn chorus spasmodic, birds are not in a rush. Seeking out signs of sunrise I take in the views like a soldier's wife, patiently waiting for news. Bedroom light left switched off, no comfort from its rays giving scant consolation on short Autumn days. On the Eastern horizon now a band of Azure, I hungrily take it in, praying for more. Greedy clouds cloak the sun as they muddy the sky stretching out my torment as the minutes tick by. As the gift of a new dawn is slowly unwrapped, night time's bookends draw nearer, the shorter day trapped. I shall revel in daylight, no minutes shall I waste but savour the sights and the sounds and the taste, for my mood feeds on sunlight at all times of year, which is why, in the winter, I swap it for beer.