Cold and Darkness in Nashville

This week's Nashville Scene cover story is about Nashvillians afflicted with seasonal affective disorder (aptly abbreviated, SAD). According to writer Jack Silverman (who suffers from SAD himself):

November is winter’s merciless siren, enticing us with her vivid early colors before hurling us into a cold and lifeless dungeon, taunting us like a death row prisoner’s lavish final meal. No month is more bittersweet—the breathtaking radiance of changing leaves in autumn’s peculiar late-afternoon sun, separated by only days from the wintry landscape’s lifeless pallor. I’ll stare at a glowing-orange sugar maple for several minutes without moving, hoping to store its vibrant hue in my neurons as some sort of insulation against the dreariness that will soon permeate my senses.

I almost feel bad that autumn and winter are my favorite times of year. I enjoy living in a city that has four distinct seasons and would actually prefer that Nashville's temperature be a few degrees cooler. (Generally, Nashville is between 5 and 10 degress warmer than Indianapolis, where I grew up.) I am most comfortable when I can wear sweatshirts and sweaters without sweating, and I abhor heat and bright light. So, for those of you who suffer from SAD, I apologize.