Clarity

Dreaded Winter is striding into my landscape with big hobnailed boots at the moment, and this lifelong S.A.D sufferer was quaking in her small, squeaky, pink boots for a while, wondering if this biggest and most feared of her foes was going to put paid to this cycling, freedom, exercise lark for the next few months. From about now until March, generally.

I've sat for the last couple of weeks and considered this in detail. From about the beginning of October until the end of March, I feel trapped inside my house from the time I get home until the time I leave for work in the morning. The main reason for this, I have concluded, is a serious lack of energy and very, very poor night-vision. Until I took up cycling, I did not have any outdoor activity that I could enjoy in the dark hours.

So I examined why it was that I felt "trapped" in the house. It turns out that I feel oppressed by the dark. It presses in on the windows of my house - an impenetrable, inky, thick barrier between me and the rest of the world. Everything is murky and indistinct - I can't knit or sew or paint or draw when it's dark - partly for practical reasons and partly psychological it seems.

Horrible! Why do I have this attitude and where has it come from? I used to be excited by the darkness and enjoy the way it made everything ordinary seem mysterious and new. When did it become an oppressor???? I'm baffled. I sincerely hope this is not a symptom of creeping middle-age and vague fears and phobias. That's too "she's always been, well, nervy, Doctor" for words.

So. Having discovered this new and disquieting set of feelings, I decided (in character) that this is not acceptable. Things only seem murky and indistinct because they are not being lit properly. The darkness is only pressing against the windows because it's out there and I'm in here and I can't see. It's not solid, it's not thick and gloopy, it's fresh and it's cold and if I go out there I'll discover that.

Bless cycling once again. With credit card in hand, I approached the fantastic LBS which seems to be slowly becoming responsible for the maintenance of my sanity. One set of lights later:



and the bike budget blown for the next two months(!) I was the proud owner of a Lupine Passubio XC set, wondering if I'd done the right thing. It was a lot of money to spend on one light. I spent the next few days faffing about finding the best place for the light on my cockpit and conditioning the battery. I also read the reviews and checked out the light test:



A few days ago everything was ready, but I still didn't go out. I spent the last few evenings upstairs watching "Mermaids" and "Black Books" whilst not doing the household accounts that I was supposed to be doing, in an ever-increasing funk, first watching the light fade and then glaring out at the darkness. Last night I couldn't take it any more, and at 9:30pm told my other half that I was headed out for a "short" spin to try out the new light.

Night-time riding was all that I remember, and more. The air was cool and fresh, there were hardly any cars about; I had the road to myself. I rode in the centre of the lane almost all the time and all I could hear was my breathing and the occasional owl. The moon was spectacular - about a third, low on the horizon, golden at first then slowly turning red. The thrill of diving into a well of blackness as the streetlights end, in which not a speck of light could be seen ahead was something that I had forgotten. I went much further than I intended!

After a short break in the village, I rode home very relaxed. I know I have rain, frost, ice and snow to contend with next, but I am now happy that I can cycle whenever I please. I hope this may be the turning point in my attitude towards Winter - I am well aware that expecting to have a horrible Winter means that I have lost the battle before I start.