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.

Lullaby for Grown-Ups - The Freed Unit

This week we have a seasonal video - the song Winter Solstice (the Snowman Came Inside) by a UK band called the Freed Unit. A little strange but mostly charming, it tells the story of a snowman who comes into the house for a drink of sloe gin. (Spoiler - it doesn't end well for him.) My favorite part is Jack Frost's dance.

The Darkest Evening of the Year

© Photographer:Javarman Agency: Dreamstime.com

We're quickly approaching the winter solstice, the longest night of the year in the northern hemisphere. There are, of course, many ways that this time is celebrated in various cultures. Most of them involve light or fire somehow, a way to keep the energy of the sun burning until it can be coaxed out of its hiding place to provide longer, warmer days ahead. Even celebrations that are not specifically about reviving the sun can trace the roots of their traditions back to this belief.

Anthropologists think that prehistoric humans observed rituals related to the winter solstice out of fear that the sun would gradually go away completely, leaving them in eternal cold and darkness. Only human intervention could prevent this catastrophe. The fear of abandonment by the sun, the life-giving force, seems so primitive to us, yet gives a glimpse at how precarious life must have been at that time.

Even now, some people struggle with the darkness this time of year. One of the saving graces of January in northern climates is that at least the days are getting longer.

While I wrote earlier that I wouldn't post a lot of poetry here, I did find a video of Robert Frost's Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, with its reference to the solstice. If you're inclined, you can watch it by following this link. I like this video not just for the recitation, but for the music and imagery as well. This poem remains an American classic, with the narrator torn between contemplating the beauty of the woods and the duties he must tend to. Think of him as you run your after-work errands in the dark in this run-up to the holidays.