NEARING SOLSTICE

Photo by S. Auberle

A candle lights this gray dawn--no sunrise yet at 7:15, only a faint lightening over the old orchard.  The coffee is dark and sweet and the furnace hums.  14 degrees, and a small south wind gives hope for a brief respite from the cold.  Ice creeps further out from the shore, into the deepest indigo waters, and only a few open patches remain.  The ice is early this year.  Last night a full moon lighted the frozen land.  "Small Spirit" is the Anishnaabe name for  December's moon, while out on the vast plains, the Cheyenne named it "Moon When Wolves Gather Together."  In the dreams of poets and children, wolf song still rings through the night.  Yesterday the dawn sky was a bowl of peaches suspended above a white table.  This morning the only color is a radiance of cardinals in the twisted old crabapple tree.  What better name for a gathering of these bright birds!  Inside, the geranium, the orchid and Christmas cactus still bravely bloom, though the cactus holds only one pink blossom now, soon to fall.  Cards lie scattered on the oak table by the window, waiting to be written, waiting to touch old friends, assure that yes, we are still here, and all is well, as another year joins the great book of memories.  Suddenly across the road, the very tip of an old cedar flames, then another and another.  Tuesday, December 17, 2013, the miracle of sunrise once more…