We’ve turned the calendar page to a new month and new year. But we’ve also started gaining more daylight with each day. At first it seems imperceptible and yet those half minutes eventually add up.
In the north we are still in the depths of winter. The snow is getting deeper and we’re continuing to get slaps of polar temperatures from the north. Our cold will continue for another month or more. My coping mechanism is to follow the light and the increasing daylight. The sun will slowly rise to a higher angle and it will shine through our coldness for a longer time each day. Eventually our part of the planet will tip towards the south and we will say goodbye to our cold temperatures and short days. But until then, I plan to embrace (as best I can!) the cold and the beauty of winter.
Today is the shortest day of the year, the winter solstice. After this dark night our days will become longer and filled with more light.
Wishing you all a bright and wonderful Christmas, and a new year filled with light and wonder.
We were wandering the back roads of central Minnesota recently in the early evening. The day had given us rain, cooler temperatures, some sun and wind. As the sun was getting lower in the sky, the clouds reflected the colors, and the moisture in the air gave us a beautiful rainbow. The lake still stirred with the wind, creating ripples that rolled across the waters, but the evening provided a magical display of light and reflection for a brief moment.
The weather was cold yesterday – barely up to zero with a biting north wind of 20+ mph. With those conditions I chose to work inside for the day. I walked past the south window several times, looking at the patterns in the snow as they changed throughout the day. Eventually they called me outside to photograph. The sun is still relatively low in the sky, making for some wonderful lines as it slid through the fence and threw its light on our meager snow. There were bits of leaves and tree debris that danced across the pattern, and a rabbit had made its way across the yard and its footprints slashed through the light and the dark. Sometimes it’s the light that pulls the scene together and tells the story.