This week, this remote Arctic settlement — which bills itself as perhaps the northernmost town in the world — is buzzing with excitement and expectation. It is not because a polar bear was spotted in the adjacent valley last week. (It was deemed well fed, and officials decided to let it lumber on toward the coast instead of shooting it as a matter of public safety.)

　　The 2,000 inhabitants of Longyearbyen, on an island 600 miles from the North Pole, are eagerly awaiting another visitor, whose arrival is just around the corner. From experience, they know this guest will warm the air and make the town’s now filmy colors come alive — the white of the snow; the deep blue of the water; the red, yellow and green of the wooden homes, banks, restaurants, schools and the post office.

　　On sunday, the sun will rise again in Longyearbyen, the first time since October. While most of the world takes light and shadows for granted, for residents here, after months of perpetual darkness, the prospect of sunlight is a very big deal.

　　With the sun climbing closer to the horizon, each day is 20 minutes longer than the day before, and noticeably brighter. On Saturday, direct sunlight, with shadows and warmth, will arrive, starting with an actual sunrise.

　　The arrival of daylight is like a yearly rebirth, transforming lives and routines. While people do not actually hibernate, of course, residents say they tire easily in the dark winter.

　　On Friday, at the Royal Kindergarten (one of three preschools here), a dozen or so children who have lived in darkness for the winter were busily painting and cutting out paper suns that are now affixed to the school’s snowy windows.

　　They are learning a song for a festival that will bring together all the town’s students next week: “The sun is good. The sun is great. The sun is warm. It browns the body. The sun shines every morning on me.”

　　The day the sun arrives is a public holiday.