Yesterday was the one I always dread. Shortest day of the year. Darkest evening.
On that darkest of days, this little horse always gives her harness bells a shake to ask if there is some mistake. So very, very dark. So very, very early. Look out the window a bit after 4 p.m. Darkness, darkness. Will it ever get lighter? Will it ever get better?
Fortunately, there's today.
And things are on the upswing.
Oh, it's a miniscule difference at this point, but each day, there's more and more light at the end of the daily tunnel. And I cherish it.
By mid-January, it will actually be noticeable.
But just knowing it's here makes me feel a lot better.
It's certainly no accident that so many cultures in the Northern Hemisphere picked December for celebrations that somehow involved light. These celebrations are diversionary tactics from the dark and gloom. And they pretty much work.
Boston usually keeps the Christmas lights up in the Common until the first of February. Somehow, the combination of more light in the evening and the brilliantly colored lights (especially surrounding the Frog Pond, where the skaters are already out in full force) makes it easier to cope with dark and dreary.
But even without the assist of colored lights, a little light at the end of the day does my soul good.
Let there be light! (Or to show off my fancy Latin skills: fiat lux!)
1 comment:
I have often said that Christmas should be in February. No one knows when Jesus was born but for sure it wasn't December -- even in Israel, shepherds don't tend their flocks outside at night in winter.
People are somewhat amused by snow before Christmas and our spirits are lifted, from youngest to oldest, by the lights colored, white, and bright. And the hard edges of shopworn hearts are somewhat softened with generosity and hope. Why in the world would we truncate these small happinesses just before the worst of winter settles in?
Merry Christmas Maureen.
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