Here we are in the darkest time of year. In the Pacific Northwest, with cloud cover nearly every day, it's really dark. This is when we pay for summer -- those days in June when it stays light out well into the night, the sky not quite black even at 10 p.m. Now we know our day is ending by around 4. It ain't Alaska, but there are days when we get a slight hint of how folks up there must feel. Not only can't you tell whether it's summer or winter; sometimes it's hard to say whether it's day or night.

I wonder why winter solstice isn't more of a bummer to me. I know I'm sensitive to the daylight issue, and Christmas, which probably obscures it for some people, has never stopped me from noticing the wicked shortness of the days. But it doesn't bring me down. Perhaps it is my night owl ways, which give me a good deal of dark waking hours even in the summer.

But this time of year, I always get a sense of hope. I can't help remembering that over the next week, the days will start getting longer again. The song "Sunny" by Bobby Hebb starts playing in my head. Very uncharacteristic for the cynic that I usually find myself being. I might even put the George Winston "December" album on to round out the inner glow. Touchy feely!

Weather-wise, of course, we're nowhere near bottom. The days will get longer now, but they will also get colder and wetter for what will seem like a long time before they finally break into spring in a few months. Around these parts, Feb. 1 is probably the nadir. But at least Mother Nature doesn't give us the worst of the dark, and the worst of the cold and wet, all at once.