thoughts on the last day of the year

".... light and life to all He brings..."

it always amuses me how many christian carols can be turned into pagan ones by making the simple substitution of "sun" for "son." the fact that these two words are homophones in english can't possibly be an accident, can it?

tonight is the longest night of the year. the solstice occurs tomorrow.

if november is the long slow slide into the dark, the next few weeks are the long slow (cold) crawl out of it. for the ancient celts and other indigenous peoples the magic of this time was as a threshold place - a point in time where one thing turns into something else. our more linear way of thinking has turned this understanding into an ending and a beginning, and consequently, we have lost something in our broader culture, i think, something that might make it easier for more of us to comprehend and appreciate shades of gray.

the woods are snowy, dark and deep outside my writing room window - the sky is pearly pewter, the pristine snow has blanketed everything in white. the only spots of color are the pale green splotches on the otherwise gray trunks of the birches. only the ravens, stark and black, swoop and scream through the pines across the ponds. winter has arrived, precisely on schedule.

and yet, when the new Sun rises tomorrow, i know the Light will only grow stronger, and spring will not seem so far away.

the candle i lit at dusk yesterday to honor my great-grandfather's passing, to honor the end of the old Sun, burns steadily on my altar. sleep sweet, pop, and send us someone to buy the house!

and furthermore, the war must end. blessed be.