Dark

What happened to the light last night?  I got home from Houston around 3:00, returned my rental car, had another meeting in north Austin at 4:00, and started the long trek home via I-35 at 4:50.  One hour and 45 minutes later, I arrived home.  There had to be an accident on 35 that I couldn't see.  I finally crept onto the access road, which of course was also filled with commuters, gripping their steering wheels in a silent, white-knuckle rage.  I entertained myself with fantasies of side-swiping the car idling next to me, just to make something happen.  Here's how bad it was:  I was able to check and respond to my work and personal email, send a few texts, and complete the first chapter of "Gone Girl."  Seriously. 

Banks and I left the house at exactly 7:15.  Not more than 20 minutes later, it was pitch black!  What was that about?  Banks, who doesn't appear to see very well at night, kept turning around and looking at me plaintively. And the Stacy Park neighborhood is not very well lit. But we did our five miles, this time with two and a HALF hills.

The truth is, I love and welcome the darkness.  I am one of the few people who looks forward to Daylight Savings Time, and the attending cold that comes with it.  I'm not sure what that's about.  The love of cold weather could be related to my Pittsburgh roots, but what about the darkness?  The very thing that bring gloom and even depression to most people -- coming out of work at 5:00 pm, bundled up, driving home with the lights on, and settling in for the night -- brings out my perky, optimistic side.  Conversely, the advent of spring -- warmer weather and longer days -- has always set off a mild depression.

For the longest time, I felt that this reflected a deficit in my character.  I mean, springtime and summer are about renewal, rebirth, long lazy days outdoors. What's to dislike about any of that?
But just as I've finally accepted the fact that I will never be comfortable on a dance floor, and will never learn to speak Spanish fluently, I've given up -- gratefully -- trying to change my nature.  Cold and dark speaks to me in a way that warmth and sunlight do not. You should see the artwork I'm drawn to.  One of my favorites is of a young girl on a farm, feeding the animals on what is obviously an overcast and frigid morning.  I love snowscapes. I love the ocean, but if I ever find a picture of it that I want to hang, it will depict a wild and wintry sea in the grip of a night storm. And get this -- I just noticed that my computer wallpaper depicts a desolate little cottage at twilight, with a footbridge over a small stream, and damned if the whole scene doesn't look cold and blustery.

Well, God made all of it -- winter, spring, dark, light. Maybe I'm not a freak. Maybe I'm just....special.  :-)