The Cold, Deep Night

© Ivan Kmit | Dreamstime.com

As we approach the winter solstice, the longest night of the year, I find that my conception of winter nights - still, hushed, all of nature covered in a deep blanket of snow - may not be quite right.

Last week I was driving home after my night shift job when I saw a crow on the wing, passing through the illumination of a street light. Crows will roost in large numbers during the fall and winter, gathering at sunset, raucous, even foreboding to some observers, until they settle down to sleep. But it was hours past sun down, and I wondered where this single crow was heading.

Then, completely by chance, I read an account on a local forum (scroll down toward the end) about "mysterious noctural conventions" of crows, where, on certain snowy nights, they fly in circles around some invisible, designated point, great numbers of them, but completely silent. Maybe the crow I saw was on its way to such a meeting, since it was, in fact, snowing. I looked for more information on the phenomenon, but found nothing to explain the mystery.

The enigma of these long, cold nights remains, and certainly explains the rituals of light so many cultures have developed to mark the solstice. Below is a video you might remember - a clip from Northern Exposure, where local artist Chris, after confiscating almost every light bulb in town, creates a light sculpture to challenge the long Alaskan night.



I wish you a wonderful holiday season and safe travels. I'll be posting lullabies this Sunday and next, and will pick up the Luminous Life series following the holiday week. Best wishes and peace.