Solstice: The Last of the Light

And so the year whittles down to this: short days, long nights. It is the time of the darkness that never seems to end. We've had a lot of cloudy skies in central Pennsylvania in the past month. I've caught a glimpse or two of the sun, but it doesn't come out and stay. These are the gray days. We look forward to the return of the light.

Most years, I mind it dreadfully. I am a creature of the outdoors and of the light. I yearn to see a shining sunrise (or sunset, for that matter). But I am trying to learn to content myself with the things I have, rather than the things I wish for. Winter has its compensations, its special beauties. I try to think of those when the gray days come.

I took this picture of Dexter about five minutes before sunset on this day, this solstice, this day of the shortest light. He was looking out the deck door windows into our woods, loving the light and fully inhabiting every last minute of it. And then: down came the darkness of the longest night of the year.

The soundtrack is by Mary Chapin Carpenter, The Longest Night of the Year.

So keep me safe and hold me tight,
Let the candle burn all night,
Tomorrow welcome back the light.
'Twas the longest night of the year