Sun

As predictable as the waxing and waning of the moon, the tides and the knowledge that the best part of The X Factor will be the rubbish acts cast off at the beginning, yesterday was the longest day of the year.  Although we saw next to no sunshine here in Edinburgh, we were blessed with seventeen hours, thirty six minutes and thirty five seconds of Northern daylight.  Plus, of course, the strange constant twilight, melding into dawn as the globe of the sun skips briefly below the horizon.

I love the Summer and I love the longest day/shortest night.  We get a massive ten hours, thirty nine minutes and seven seconds more daylight during the Summer solstice than we do on the shortest day.

I've not had to put the heating on, nor the lights and warming foods, the comforting type such as mashed potato, soup or steamed puddings are as far from my mind as they can ever get.

But...

The six months of looking forward to ever longer days are now over. The nights are already drawing in.

So what do I do?  Should I be a pessimist, think the worst about the up-coming six months and then be pleasantly surprised when it doesn't turn out half as bad as I expected?  Will that be the key to a happy Winter?

I don't think so.  I know it's going to get colder.  I know it's going to get wetter.  I know the days will get shorter.  I know the nights will get longer.  I know I'll have to be putting the lights on at three in the afternoon.  There's no way any of that's going to change.

Unless, dear reader, if you know of anything to aid me in thinking the absolute worst about the Autumn and Winter which might not actually occur and leave me happily amazed, please let me know.

My self-diagnosed SAD is already kicking in.