I think I am having the Ghanaian version of winter depression, excepting mine is associated with the harmattan. I think the weather is having an effect on several things, including my writing. My ideas are as dry as the scorched patches of earth that have appeared everywhere, and as fuzzy as the haze that greets one in the morning, encloses you during the day, and tucks you in at night. Omnipresent dust.
In the Netherlands I was always surprised by the term winter depression, until I spent enough years to realize that story book pictures aside the reality was that it was so cold often times you wanted to be anywhere but in the midst of that rain, fog and slush - which the snow eventually turns to. Who wouldn't be depressed? Granted, never quite got to that stage where I was depressed in the real sense of the word, but yes, did long for the longer, warmer days of summer that could be spent on the beach (which was close to our offices) and not huddled inside.
I think this harmattan is the worse I have experienced it since living here, and while I do like the chillier nights I really cant stand the dust and the haze. The smell of smoke has also become quite common place - and worrying. Every morning on the way into Accra there seems to be a new burnt patch of land. Last Sunday on the way back from Accra, there was a huge fire that was burning so close to the roadside that motorists were pulling over to the other side to avoid the flames that seem about to burst out onto the road itself, and the smoke which was by then limiting one's visibility. Not sure if they have been deliberately set to clear the land, or accidentally started. Either way is worrying though and am hoping we really won't have a case of one getting out of hand.
Anyway, will continue to fight grit with grit and trudge on to to the daily tasks, including writing.