When we get into the depths of winter I find that I'm strangely fatigued. Tired. It's hard to resist going to bed early. Early in the evening. And then I sleep long hours, sleep like a log. Of course this leads to getting up early the next morning. And so it goes.
I suppose someone might try to slap some fancy name on it, like seasonal affective disorder. I don't know, maybe it is, maybe it isn't. It doesn't feel unpleasant at all, quite the contrary. It feels good, relaxing, like a hot bath. I only know that at the nadir of the seasons, for some weeks, I feel slow, fatigued, as if I ought to be hibernating. Now the early sunsets and early darkness are receding, and I find myself feeling not quite so tired so early in the evening. Before we reach the end of February this annual lethargy will have passed.