It descends upon me. I drag my feet through the morning, the dark. It is a tunnel. How must it have been in Norway? he asked me this morning. I didn’t know what it was then, I said, but I felt pretty low. They must’ve thought me just grumpy and bad-tempered, I said. Six months of it. And now the morning is trying to come. Out there, it barely came. And yet, there were parts of it that I loved. They know how to make the best of the light when it comes. Gloomy thoughts and gloomy rooms. I light candles. And as Christmas approaches I will set out fairy lights. Others, students mostly, I see have them in their windows throughout the year. They gladden my heart, as do the lit trees that I see through living room windows, though most turn them off during the night. It must be lived through, endured with grace. As people are enduring this pandemic. It is all we can do.

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.