Evenings

I always miss the light when it gets to that winter time all shrouded in shadow, but oh well. Now it's time to make friends again with all the deep darkness and the yellow evening lights. And I remember that I belong in both places despite their differences. I remember I'm the freckled little sunbeam with golden hair and ice cream, and I'm also the huge winter coat with twigs for legs and a messy straw sphere on my head.

I try not to cling to any particular seasons or weather conditions because, you know, I'm on Earth and I can't really do anything to change those things. Not until I'm president of the galaxy, at least, which won't be for years! But here's a thing I like about the darker, colder, parts of the year: the evenings. The black midnights and the indoors full of little electrical suns and big fuzzy clothes. I get to dig out my extra thick pyjamas and practice my pillow impersonation skills.

And the way things look is so different when the sun doesn't come in at dawn to paint your walls and dapple your bedsheets, but it's no less good. There is a beauty in the evenings and the darkness. There is life in the searing heat of stars and the visual stillness of the dark. The year shifts, and the world shifts, and I shift, and each of those shifts is worth appreciating in this little piece of the universe.