Lives Lived in the Dark

Wendy Pratt Writing

I’ve swapped my afternoon ‘nearly finished work’ dog walk for a morning ‘before work’ dog walk. Partly because I always seem to miss-time the darker evenings, meaning a rushed dog walk out of necessity, rather than something to enjoy. I am feeling the short days, feeling quite crushed by the lack of daylight and this week, the coldest so far of autumn, with my circulation struggling and the cold in my bones, and work piling up and, of course the anxiety of the pandemic in the background, I started to feel a real struggle to get up and get on in the morning. I imagine everyone, the whole world, is in pain, is struggling. Of all the bleak winters, this is up there. But I’m also aware that on a personal level, for us, this is not, not by a long shot, the bleakest winters we’ve faced, even with Chris’s…

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