It’s getting close to our annual trip to a warmer, sunnier place, and I am getting anxiously eager. The only thing I dislike about winters in our valley is that they are very dark and gloomy too much of the time. It’s not just that the days are short and nights long. Even in the so-called daylight, the very dense overcast and frequent fog keep the valley so gloomily dark that it reminds me of the setting for hell in C.S. Lewis’ The Great Divorce. This annual sojourn of ours seems to be something I need to restore my normal cheerful outlook on life because each year at this time I find myself sliding deeper into a very dark place in spite of my discipline of the Daily Office and great joy in celebrating and preaching. It’s not as bad as the priest in Fr. Melancholy’s Daughter, but I certainly know more than I care to about his condition.