Winter dark, a new year, and avidly I watch the times of the rising and setting sun as if unsure that it will happen again, that the year will turn. The only solace the sight of the first aconites and snowdrops which are greeted with such excitement, as if I’d never seen them before.
The original pagan festival created to give cheer to the darkest days and bring offerings to welcome back the sun, hasn’t lost it’s meaning, certainly not for me. The moon was full on Christmas night, and I could imagine the shepherds in the fields watching over their flocks. A candle lit evoking the mystery of fire. Even without the cold or snow, the sight of the bare trees stark against the sky, the grey, the closed in afternoons, the late dawns, bring on such a longing for spring.
What must it have been for our ancestors when candles were the only means to light their way without the sun? All candles were a luxury, especially the ones made of beeswax, to be eeked out during the winter months. A comfort at your side to keep fear at bay.
At the same time Sandra Horn wrote in a December blog for Authors Electric of her love of the dark and cold. And yes, I can agree, I too feel the power of the contrast. Without the darkness of night there would be no evidence of stars, while the moon is a pale creature left to hang in a dawn sky.
Patience is what I need. To appreciate the fresh breath of frosty air, the days that urge indoor pursuits, the garden birds antics on my hanging feeders, the smell of smoke from a wood fire burning.
This is the time of year when it all shifts. On the cusp, the world hovers to reassess, takes a deep breath and rolls on into another year.
2016; books to be read, writing to be done. And to anyone reading this, I wish you the best of years to come.