Darkness Descends on the Beaver State
PORTLAND, OR — It’s back. Oregon residents are bracing themselves for the annual ritual that locals grimly call “Seasonal Depression Season,” as the state once again plunges into months of early sunsets, endless drizzle, and an all-too-familiar gloom.
While the days technically started shrinking after the summer solstice, Oregonians know September and October mark the real tipping point — the moment daylight disappears like a ghosting ex. Portland’s final 7 p.m. sunset of the year will vanish on September 25, with the last 6 p.m. sunset just before Halloween. By November 2, the sun will set before 5 p.m., officially kicking off the “Well, guess the day’s over” dinner-at-4:30 era.
The Collective Sigh
Across the state, residents reported the annual tradition of glancing out the window at 4:52 p.m., realizing darkness has already swallowed the sky, and muttering, “Well, here we go again.”
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“It’s basically our Super Bowl,” joked Eugene resident Mark Jensen, who marked the season’s arrival by stocking up on a 12-pack of IPA and a brand-new full-spectrum lightbulb. “By mid-November, I’ll be wearing pajamas 22 hours a day and calling vitamin D tablets ‘happy pills.’ Can’t wait.”
The Science (Sort Of)
Meteorologists note Oregon will lose more than 90 minutes of daylight this month alone. Scientists call this “axial tilt” and “astronomy.” Locals, however, just call it “God’s reminder that living here is a bad idea.”
Coping Rituals Across Oregon
Every city handles the creeping darkness in its own way. Portland will once again host its Annual SAD Lamp Lighting Ceremony, where Mayor Keith Wilson ceremoniously plugs in a Costco light panel before retreating under it to cry quietly.
In Bend, residents plan to hike Pilot Butte at noon sharp — the only reliable window for sunlight between now and April.
Meanwhile, businesses are cashing in on the seasonal despair:
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Dutch Bros unveiled its new Pumpkin Prozac Latte.
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Fred Meyer reported record sales of fleece blankets, blackout curtains, and boxed wine.
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REI announced a “Sad Trekker’s Bundle,” complete with waterproof boots, a headlamp, and a coupon for therapy.
“This is our culture,” said Anna Ruiz, a Salem mother of three. “Some states get colorful leaves, others get football. Here in Oregon, we get six months of mildew, moldy basements, and the creeping suspicion that the sun is never coming back. Honestly, it builds character.”
Living Traditions
Much like rain, moss, and Subaru Outbacks with coexist stickers, Seasonal Depression Season is woven into Oregon’s cultural identity. From Portland hipsters journaling by candlelight to coastal residents competing in the annual “Which Neighbor Has the Whitest Knuckles on Their Steering Wheel” contest, the rituals of endurance are part survival, part satire.
Experts predict the darkness will linger through March, at which point Oregonians will emerge from hibernation pale, vitamin-deficient, and ready to pretend — once again — that they “love the seasons.”
A Closing Scene
At press time, one Gresham man was spotted standing in front of his neighbor’s porch light, whispering softly: “Is this what warmth feels like?”
And so, the long night begins again.
