It’s the time of dark days in Iceland. “Short days” is what Icelanders call it: skammdegi, the time of the year when the sun barely makes it over the horizon anymore. In December, there are only about four to five hours of daylight.
 
I used to not mind the dim winter days. In fact, I quite liked them. “It’s such a festive and cozy time in Iceland,” I’d tell friends, family members, or anyone else wanting to know how one copes with the darkness of the Icelandic winter.

(When I’m working with tourists in the summer, it’s the number one question asked.)

“Everyone’s preparing for Christmas, going to one of the many Christmas-themed events or bundling up with a hot drink and a good read at home,” I’d explain. “Besides, all winter there is an abundance of lights. Christmas lights, city lights, the gleaming white snow. It really isn’t that dark at all.”
 
Which is all true. But for some reason, this year felt different. Already at the end of August, the increasingly shorter days bothered me.
 
I thought I’d soaked up enough sunshine holidaying in Italy in September to get me through the Icelandic winter. But once back in Iceland, I was feeling tired all the time and started to take “light-breaks” at work. When everyone else would be standing outside smoking a cigarette, I’d be standing there staring at the autumn sun.
 
In November, when the sun set only a few hours after sunrise, I went to the gym about three times a week (endorphins!), fed the family extra doses of beetroot juice and cod liver oil (vitamin D!), and found myself buying lemon and gold-colored clothing. And wearing it, too.
 
In the beginning of December, when there was barely a glimpse of sunlight (but plenty of snowstorms instead), I contemplated using sun beds.

And went on my colleagues’ nerves by constantly asking them what day it was. Days seemed to run together, I was losing track of time. So was my two-year-old son: He kept waking up in the middle of the night, wanting to eat breakfast.
 
I even joined the Icelandic craze for illuminated Christmas decorations and went shopping for icicle lights, starlight chains and glittering Christmas angel mobiles for the very first time. Much to my four-year-old daughter’s delight. (I usually decorate too puristically to her liking.)

“You’ve become an Icelander at last!” my neighbor exclaimed when she saw my sparkling kitchen window.
 
Yes, something is different this year.

But funnily enough, as I am writing this (in mid-December, the darkest time of the year), I just realized that skammdegi

isn’t really bothering me anymore. I’m actually enjoying the dark days right now.

There’ve been Christmas-wrapping and baking sessions with the kids, sledding outside in the snow, weekend trips to festively-decorated Reykjavík and Christmas concerts at the Harpa concert hall—what a wonderful time of the year!

No need to fret. The sun will be back. It’s all uphill from here.

Katharina Schneider – This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it