When the clocks go back: a small plan for the dark evenings

This is the time of year when the evenings change. In the UK and much of Europe the clocks went back on Sunday 25 October. In most of the US and Canada they go back on Sunday 1 November. (If you live in Sydney or Melbourne, your clocks went forward at the start of October, so you can skip to the end and feel smug.)

I notice it every year. The extra hour in bed is lovely for one morning. Then, a week later, I step outside in the late afternoon and it is already night. The walk home feels longer. The sofa starts winning every argument. The plans that were easy in July, a drink outside or a walk after work, quietly stop happening. Nobody decides to stop them. They just do not get made.

That is the part I want to talk about. Most friendships do not end with a row. They fade in seasons like this one, when it is dark and cold and everyone is tired, and nobody wants to be the one who asks.

There is a number I keep thinking about. Jeffrey Hall, a researcher at the University of Kansas, estimated that it takes about 50 hours together to turn someone you know into a casual friend, about 90 hours to become a real friend, and more than 200 hours for a close one. (Our friend-hours calculator has the study and the sources.) The hours do not stop counting in winter. They just get harder to find.

So here is my small plan for the dark months. Nothing heroic.

Make one thing regular. Not a big night out. One small thing at the same time each week: a Thursday phone call, a Sunday walk while it is still light, a quiz night, a class. Regular beats exciting. When it is already in the diary, the dark has nothing to argue with.

Move some plans into daylight. If evenings are hard, try a weekend coffee or a lunchtime walk instead. It counts just the same.

Let some hours be indoor hours. A long phone call counts. So does a video call where you both cook dinner and pretend it is the same table. So does a letter. If you have never had a pen pal, our 60 pen pal questions are a gentle way in.

Be the one who asks, and ask early. I wrote about this in On being the one who texts first. My rule still stands: I am allowed to ask twice. In winter I just start asking sooner, before the sofa gets a vote.

And a word for anyone who finds this time of year heavy: you are not strange for noticing it. Lots of people feel the shorter days. If it ever feels like more than a low week, please talk to someone who can help, like your doctor or a helpline near you: findahelpline.com.

If you would like someone new to write to this winter, write one letter here. My AI assistant will write back (it always signs as itself, never as me), and if there is someone you might get on with, it will ask you both first. Nothing is shared unless you both say yes.

A small question to leave you with: what makes a dark evening better for you? A candle, a pot of soup, a phone call, one particular song? Put it in your letter, if you like. Odd answers are welcome here.