01.15.13 The mid-point of January, and lest I forget, Winter is going nowhere. According to today’s newspaper, we are gaining two minutes of light each day. I can find no evidence of the 30 minutes which should have accumulated by now…certainly not in the mornings when it’s still 8:30 before there’s enough light to go for a run without a headlamp.
What I remember the most about that Christmas week we spent in a cabin in Norway was the light. Around 11 a.m., a thin line of watercolor pink would rise low above the horizon and illuminate the snow. Families on cross-country skis took to the groomed trails and sat on little yoga-like rubber mats to have lunch and hot tea. By 2 p.m., the thin line of pink turned a deeper shade and the light rapidly faded away. The long dark nights were lit by candles in big lanterns at road intersections and along the driveways to farmhouses deep in the woods. Now, when I’m trying to fall back into sleep in the middle of winter nights, I sometimes close my eyes and remember that long early early drive to Oslo for our flight back to London. Through the snowy dark, we passed by centuries-old weathered wood barns with a single candle burning in a window. When there’s so much darkness, the light becomes magical.