Sunday, November 21, 2010

no light without darkness

scenes from frilandsmuseet


it’s that dark time of year and with each passing year, i feel increasingly the oppressiveness of the winter darkness. of course, winter was darker than summer where i grew up, but i live a lot farther north now. for example, chicago is on parallel with rome. where i live now, in denmark, the hudson bay. so the winter darkness is significant here.

but with the darkness, come thoughts of light. and memories of light. and somehow, along with the candlelight so prevalent in december, it carries me through...

...a cold, clear march night. a taste of moonshine. and the greenish, eerie glow of lights dancing on the northern horizon.

...a summer night on the prairie. lying on an old wooden bridge in the middle of a pasture, creek flowing below, the song of frogs, crickets and cicada filling the warm night air. strangely undiscovered by mosquitoes, watching the night sky darken and fill with a million stars. the sounds of my own laughter and our low voices, carrying through the night air. filled with the carefree joy of youth and of youthful infatuation and being full of oneself and the feeling of being alive. the light of the stars coursing through our very veins in the warm night air.

...fast forward to another summer, the waters of the volga flowing timelessly past, the winds of time and history washing over me. the summer nights stretching on and on, filled with laughter and song. and the scent of white linen breeze in the waning endless golden hours of sunset.

...warm breezes blowing in off the adriatic, ancient walls trace their trails down a hill. a plate of cool, green melon. a bottle of red wine. a heated discussion of postmodernism in the long twilight hours as night slowly settles in.

and with these, from the darkness, i can recognize that there is an unbearable lightness of being..

8 comments:

kristina - no penny for them said...

what a beautiful picture you are drawing with your scenes. i will try to find some for myself - the darkness is really getting to me.

Karen said...

Beautiful writing, one of my own truths written so well. I'm already feeling winters creep.

And oh, for those youthful days...
John Mellencamp wasn't kidding when he sang

"Life goes on.. long after the thrill of living is gone."

poet said...

I feel exactly the same... after the exhilaration of having real seasons again, the gloom of November non-light still remains a challenge for the soul. Your idea of recalling light from around the year is great, I'll try that!

Cheers,
poet

Will said...

"Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer ..."

Artist in the Arctic said...

gorgeous writing. i needed to read about light. it feels mighty dark this time of year in alaska. you transported me with your words. thank you.

Karen Turner said...

I really enjoy the darkness of winter... I find the long summer light a little relentless. But we do need both, of course.
I haven't left you a comment for a while, I know - but I have been reading regularly :-)

Char said...

i love winter's quiet beauty - though very different than the other seasons, i love it just for itself

Teri and the cats of Furrydance said...

lovely photo and gentle words. Funny, while winter is just settling in here, I am actually looking forward to many tasks that didn't get done when there was yard and garden to care for in the summer. I hope to see spring arrive lighter and simplified...