Winter Solstice ...For weeks now, the sound of carols, old and new, has been heard during the / evening hours, a sound passed on from village / to village, like a fire which must not be allowed to / die out. |
That quiet time of year when thoughts
of the past naturally turn to face the
stars of the North, and we sit in front
of the winter fire, alone,
gently burning away the burden of what
has been. Old books go, manuscripts go,
bills, letters never sent, even things we
wish we would have said. We watch
them burn, the crackling sound of the dry
pine bringing the hard, heavy oak into flame,
irregular remindings of the unexpected
which broods and ripens
within the silent, glowing coals. That dark
time of year of many candles and delicate strings
of white lights that help us remember
the slower, more subtle rhythms
of the Earth itself, now not confused
by too much of the sun's glare. Some spaces
are meant to be empty; they're precious,
vulnerable, but oh-so-easy prey for
the religious contractors pounding at the
door or trying to get down the chimney at night.
But the fire is hot enough, and there's the simple
promise of handmade gifts which do not arrive
until spring. For weeks now, the sound of carols,
old and new, has been heard during the evening
hours, a sound passed on from village to village,
like a fire which must not be allowed to die out.
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Winter
Solstice * |
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Poster:
Winter Solstice |
(Photo:Deep Snow,
Winter Refuge; the Alps. Many of the
pieces of the Picture/Poem collection
were written here over a period of some 12 years. In all fairness, it must
be said that this photograph
was made towards the end of March, 1995, and not in the middle of highcountry
winter. It's not
the snow depth which gives this fact away, but the angle of sunlight. Notice
the slant of the
shadows coming from the mountain ashes in the foreground. During the months
of December
and January, this spot would not receive direct sunlight on even the clearest
of days. The snow
remains on the ground here until about the beginning or middle of May.)
Winter Solstice, which might also be called
A Midwinter's Night's
Dream, is part of a
double quartet of pieces, all in a rather slow, contemplative, narrative
voice,
which celebrates the eight major festivals of the Solar Year.
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| See
also November
Snow |
Ringing the
Changes at Candlemas | and
Calendar
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Picture/Poems: Central Display |
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Texts © 1999 Cliff Crego All Rights Reserved
(Last update: XI.30.1999 ) Comments to
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