Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Waning Winter

There's light now at 5pm, and I know it happens every year and every year it seems like a bit of a miracle or a large part of a miracle or even an entire miracle unto itself. The return of the light, and 5pm is one of those pivotal times, a shift from day into evening, a letting-go of the workday and letting oneself into the last interval of aliveness in a single day.

Every year I wait for it and every year it surprises me, like there's a small part of me that doesn't believe it's going to happen, that maybe we'll be forever plunged into short days and interminable nights.

O lordy this is getting to sound grim.
Best to end here.


  1. No, I hear you. Even here, in the land of perpetual sunshine, it's shocking when it happens. Every single year.

  2. It always seems to creep up upon one don't it?

  3. I know the feeling, but I always try to get out and hear what the birds are saying as the light grows each day. They know better than we do that things are working out. Best wishes -

    1. Casey, good advice. I went out this morning to put out the hummingbird feeder (in the house overnite so it wouldn't freeze), but all was very still and quiet in the cold. I'll try again tomorrow to hear what the birds are saying.

      Warm wishes,