There’s a certain slant of light

This is the best description of the feeling that comes upon one around this time of year and lasts until about March. Not that this summer wins any prizes for being great, but at least it was light out.

There’s a certain slant of light,
On winter afternoons,
That oppresses, like the weight
Of cathedral tunes.

Heavenly hurt it gives us;
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
Where the meanings are.

None may teach it anything,
‘T is the seal, despair,—
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the air.

When it comes, the landscape listens,
Shadows hold their breath;
When it goes, ‘t is like the distance
On the look of death.

–Emily Dickinson