The tree is almost bare by November 6.

I don’t know why people who have lived here a long time, Swedes and expats alike, feel the need to tell us that the winter is coming and that it is going to be bad, very bad. I think we know. We would not have moved here without doing that research.

I know that we are from California, but we are not unaware of what snow looks like or how to wear wool socks. In fact, the last time I went to Costco I stocked up on new wool socks. They are waiting for me, unopened in the closet. I think we are mentally prepared for a little chilly weather.

But it’s not the cold, I’ve heard.

It’s the darkness.

The first time somebody told me that, they said it with such ominousness that I thought it was a joke. Be afraid, very afraid. Darkness is a real thing. But then I kept hearing the same comment, “Be prepared. It’s not the cold, or even the wind and rain. It’s the darkness.”

We had a nasty summer here. Numerous people assured me that it was the worst summer in 100 years here. It rained constantly, and I thought it was a tragic waste of 17-hour days to have cold rain blotting out the sun. It really felt like extra-long January days in southern California. I wore my light weight jacket almost every day.

So when people talked about the coming winter darkness, I thought it was a bit of an exaggeration. How can it be worse than rainy summer days?

I understood that the days would be short, very short. I had images of poor little school children walking to school in the dark, crunching snow under their boots, coming home in the dark. I lived for a year in Wisconsin. I am familiar with the concept of winter.

But by late October when the beautiful autumn leaves were just past their peak, I began to understand what my Swedish friends meant by darkness.

It is not that the days are short or that winter clouds block the precious bit of sunshine that dares to rise. The “problem” is that the sun, on the sunniest of days, simply does not climb very high above the horizon. Last week, the last time the clouds were thin enough to see the partially masked sun, I could see that at noon it looked like the sun was at a 45 degree angle from the horizon. And that was October.

It is going to get dark by late December.

But….

I refuse to give in to fear.

Light always shines brightly in the darkness. I look forward to experiencing how Swedish people light up their world on the darkest of winter days. It sounds cliche, but it is a serious hope. Sweden may have long, dark winters, but they are not cold, depressed people. They are a people of generosity and hospitality, Fika and great baking, music and design, technology breakthroughs and political stability. I believe there is something bright here, and I will have patience to discover it.