It gets late early out there.
I hadn't understood how days could be both long and short at the same time: long to live through, maybe, but so drawn out that they ended up flowing into one another. They lost their names. Only 'yesterday' and 'tomorrow' still had any meaning for me.
A normal day of working in Burbank is 14 hours, sometimes more. On 'The Revenant' sometimes it was eight hours, but we were shooting only five. So they were short days, but they were very strenuous because of the weather. And it was very dark.
The lonely season in lonely lands, when fled Are half the birds, and mists lie low, and the sun Is rarely seen, nor strayeth far from his bed; The short days pass unwelcomed one by one.
He makes a July's day short as December.
The days are short, The sun a spark Hung thin between The dark and dark.
If months were marked by colors, November in New England would be colored gray.
When the days are too short, chances are you are living at your best.
I'm from Sweden, so I don't enjoy winter at all; there's nothing cute about it.
Write about winter in the summer.
We do not even see the sun for several months in the north of Sweden.
I'm from Sweden, where it's winter, like, half the year. And it's dark - we barely have any daylight.
Maine out of season is unmistakably a great destination: hospitable, good-humored, plenty of elbow room, short days, dark nights of crackling ice crystals.
Oh, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us!
The nights were long, like the braids of a pretty girl, and the days were short, like a girl's sense. ("The North")
The short winter’s day was drawing to a close. It seems to me sometimes that these are the only days I have ever known, and especially that most charming moment of all, just before night wipes them out.
I came from Canada, where it's freezing cold for seven months out of the year.
When the short days of winter came, dusk fell before we had well eaten our dinners. When we met in the street the houses had grown sombre. The space of sky above us was the colour of ever-changing violet and towards it the lamps of the street lifted their feeble lanterns. The cold air stung us and we played till our bodies glowed. Our shouts echoed in the silent street.
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.
