The longest night of the year is now over. In Celtic terms, “the wheel turns.” In my mind, today should be the first day of the new year, the day when the light starts to return. What a better thing to celebrate than the end of the longest night? Even though the change is only a tiny one, it is the changing day.
I can imagine a time when people stayed up all night, burning bonfires to defy the long darkness, celebrating the coming of dawn’s first light. In a way, our current New Year’s Eve celebrations are like that, but they’re just on the wrong day. Last night should have been the night for that. Today should be the new year.
Last night at Roundtop was cold, but it felt warmer than the past few days, as the wind was not nearly so fierce. This morning Baby Dog started sliding down the little hummock created by evening the lay of my driveway, and ended up 20 feet into the woods. Both Dog and Baby Dog are becoming accomplished sliders. I, unfortunately, am not. I feel like an old woman as I inch along. I love winter, but this ice can go.