Just the other day at a party I heard someone say, “It’s staying light a bit longer now.”
“Have you noticed that too?” I said.
Here were are in the dark days of January and I was so glad to hear someone acknowledge what I secretly pine for: more light. The winter solstice is over. It happened before Christmas and we hardly noticed because we were so busy singing carols, doing our last-minute shopping, baking cookies and sending out cards to the people who we forgot to send cards to.
But now it’s January, not even Martin Luther King Day, and I’m looking at the morning sky and thinking: “The sun’s coming up earlier now.” Pretty soon I’ll be able to do my morning run in light outside—that is, if the sidewalk’s not freezing. And at night at five I look at the sky and say, “It’s not quite as dark as it was.” I even told Carol, looking at the thick crust of snow and ice in the garden, “You know, we’ll be seeing those crocuses in another six weeks.” Here the kids are, dusting off the sled and I’m planning for spring.
I know that there are spiritual advantages to living in the present, appreciating all the beauties of the days we’re given, but I can’t help yearning for the thing that’s ahead, a week, two weeks, a month, two months, down the pike. The world spins on its axis and I spin ahead in hope. More light, more sun, more life.
Meanwhile I dig my fists in the pocket of my parka and wrap the scarf a little tighter around my neck. With thoughts of spring.
Rick Hamlin is the executive editor at GUIDEPOSTS.
