Nox Longissima
Nox longissima
Caeli enarrant
Gloriam Dei...
It has been snowing heavily since before sunset--dry, fine flakes that shroud the earth and muffle light. With the visibility down to a mile, it is dark outside, the distant world cut off. Shortly after I get home from work tonight, the solstice will pass--the moment when our planet stops in its flight away from the sun, the crest of the arc, the moment's pause before we start the long fall back toward summer. I will pour a glass of wine and stand outside in the silently falling snow, waiting to feel some pulse through my bones to telegraph the moment that the Earth passes that invisible point in its orbit that makes the return of summer, so distant, inevitable.
The longest night is here...
This is surely the oldest of human holidays--and every winter celebration traces its roots to this point of potential.
"Tell me your dreams...in the time of Winter."
