I love Christmas. At this very special time of year, when the sun appears only fleetingly to those of us living in the northern hemisphere, I feel a deep connection with ancient ancestors.
its been a long night" "aren't they all?
Write about winter in the summer.
I'm from Sweden, so I don't enjoy winter at all; there's nothing cute about it.
I'm from Sweden, where it's winter, like, half the year. And it's dark - we barely have any daylight.
The nights seem to me too long... I am often scolded by Madame Pasteur, but I tell her I shall lead her to fame.
The nights were long, like the braids of a pretty girl, and the days were short, like a girl's sense. ("The North")
I came from Canada, where it's freezing cold for seven months out of the year.
Swedish winters are not for the faint of heart.
But I do feel a little teeny right now that I'm just about ready to start, and winter is entering. Half past autumn has arrived.
As winter approaches - bringing cold weather and family drama - we crave page-turners, books made for long nights and tryptophan-induced sloth.
I’d ruin any day, all my days, for those long nights with you, and I did.
As it somehow always manages before the winter solstice, but never after, the early darkness was cheerful and promising, even for those who had nothing.
