Dear Friend and Reader,
ERIC AND I have been noticing something about the way time has been flowing. On more than one occasion, we have stopped our work and looked up at the ceiling and exclaimed something like “God! It feels like it should be 2 in the morning!” It’s only 8 in the evening when this happens, but it’s been happening over and over. My partner has noticed too. We’ll be talking and he’ll kick back the last of a beer, his head tilted towards the ceiling, and he’ll say, “Wow! It feels like it should be later!” It’s only 9 at night when this happens. This is the magic of winter’s approach as the Sun edges its way towards Capricorn.
The strangest thing about it is when I feel like I’ve been awake way past my bedtime, it’s not because I’m exhausted. In fact, it feels like I am caught in a long, weird bout of insomnia. Midnight, 1, 2 in the morning, I am bolt upright in bed, clear sighted through the thick darkness. Outside is that winter stillness. Midway up the forested hills that cluster around my house, you can see farther than at any other time; the trees are bare and present the looker with an uncluttered view of drab umbers, tarnished silvers and the all around gloomy pallette of winter to come. This is my favorite time of year.
It’s like this: I imagine that the autumn riders come in the form of stark, freezing winds to chase away all trace of the summer before. All of the leaves and the cheerful birds, the flowers, fruits, colorful insects and serpents are all blown to other, safer corners. The world sinks into a pensive silence. The earth is covered in a mantle of snow like a blanket to cover a sleeping mother. The days grow shorter, the wind mournful. Even the waters of the streams flow sluggishly. It is said that the maiden of springtime, Kore, or Persephone, has gone down into the Underworld, and her mother has shrouded the world in her grief.
With no contact from her cherished daughter, she has no memory of youth and is stuck only with the reality of her own age. Time takes on strange dimensions. The darkness itself seems fertile. The longest night of the year approaches. It is the solstice. The Sun enters Capricorn. The world begins to change.