December 19 The Longest Nights

I have never been quite certain if the eve of the Winter Solstice, or the evening of the Winter Solstice is "the shortest night". Both are the shortest! The shortest day is sandwiched between two nights which are both exactly the same length. Witness:

Date                 Sunrise    Sunset     Length of Day

December 20   7:14 AM   4:23 PM   9h 08m 28s

December 21   7:15 AM   4:23 PM   9h 08m 26s

December 22   7:15 AM   4:24 PM   9h 08m 28s

The Winter Solstice is a fulcrum, a balance, a day of stillness. 

The shortest day sandwiched between two equally long nights.

December 18 Winter Pageantry

December 17 - Angels With Lute and Recorder

December 16

     Half a century ago in Brooklyn, most people didn't cut their own Christmas trees, unless they snuck in to Prospect Park by dark of night to steal a tree. 
     We lived on paved streets. Playing under the Christmas Tree was the closest I came to walking in the magical forests I read about in fairy tales. I loved the tree which was never put up until a day or two before Christmas Eve at the earliest. That brief period when it graced our home was precious beyond measure. My mother was the enemy when it came to the tree. She was fearful of the hot bulbs and, in fairness, she was the one who cleaned up the litter of needles on the floor each day. I don't remember our tree as dry, but as a child I wouldn't have seen that it was. My eye was not yet trained to seek out imperfection—all I could see was the beauty. 
     I long for the days when time passed so slowly. The week between Christmas and New Year's Eve seemed to last a very, very long time then, although on New Years Day, it always seems to have passed too fast. One New Year's Eve, in the afternoon, the dog, fleeing a dose of medicine, ran beneath the tree and toppled it. Oh the horrible, horrible sound of that great tree falling and shattering glass as ornaments impacted with the floor. It seemed like there was water everywhere—a deluge. This flood from the tree stand soaked through paper chains and the delicate cardboard santas which were a giveaway from the bank, but would fetch a pretty penny on ebay today.
     We lived upstairs and my grandparents lived downstairs, each in three rooms. The tree was downstairs on the first floor. If you want to picture the house, think "Archie Bunker".
     When the great tree fell, I saw tragedy, but my mother saw opportunity. In fairness, she also saw an enormous mess which she would have to clean, because the rest of us were useless. She insisted that, rather than righting the tree, it was officially "down" so it was time to remove it from the house. It would have been coming down after New Years anyway, but that was a long time away to a child. I was heartbroken. So was my grandmother, at least I think she was. She made the suggestion that there was a little white artificial tree in the attic, which belonged to her. The little tree could be set up for a day or two "for the child". Probably for the child in her own heart, as much as the granddaughter she loved so much. After the devastation of my tree falling, my heart lifted in hope and exultation. Who knew that this wonderful secret tree had been in the attic all alone? But my mother nixed the idea as too much trouble. Again, in fairness, finding the tree would have involved one of the men getting on a ladder and rooting around in the dusty attic and there was already a mess on the floor when she made this decision.
     In my mind's eye though, I can see that little white tree as clearly as I did in that brief moment of hope and exultation when I pictured it. I can see it as clearly as I would have if my mother had said yes, and my father had braved the rickety ladder and faced down the monsters and dust bunnies who inhabited the attic.

December 14

This short video was created by my good friend John Lippincott. Thanks!
In the darkness of the winter
In the stillness of the night
We stand searching the horizon
For the first rays of light...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EupP7PuLKgc&feature=player_embedded

December 13 - Old Winter - Santa Lucia

December 12

From the gnostic gospel of Saint Nicholas
     Whenever two (or more if they liveth in Utah) shall come together in the estate of holy matrimony or blessed civil union, or unblessed if this be their preference, each shall bring the customs of their family of origin and nation to the decking of the Yule tree. In all things regarding the evergreen, husband shall bow to the customs of his wife, unless that custom be the wanton throwing of clumps of tinsel, which in all nations is known as an abomination.
     Women, even though your beloved boweth down to you, like the cherry tree to Mary, you in turn must be respectful of his feelings about the tree, even though he displayeth none in any other matter. Those ornaments which he loves must be displayed, even though they are foolish in your eyes. Surely your mother has told you this, but if she was negligent in the matter of your instruction, I will tell you now, there are many men who would tie a piece of string to a motorcycle part or a tractor bolt, and call it an ornament. If you are wise, you will not argue the fine points of ritual ornamentation with a man who wishes to hang a bicycle derailleur on the tree.
     When a spouse comes to the marriage with great riches of ornaments and tchotchkas, these items must not be discarded, but may be moved to the back of the tree the moment he leaveth the room to tend to the fields or garage. Likewise this wisdom applieth to the children which are the fruit of your union, and to those who cometh in a package deal with your husband. For surely there will come a time when they are instructed in the way of glitter and the glue of Elmer. Should the occasion arise where an ornament which was placed by a man or a child, must be moved, it is better to follow the wisdom of the ancients and create a legend to explain the movement or disappearance. "Like the magi, the popsicle stick mouse followed the star..." The men will fall for this, but the wise child will not be deceived.
     Remember always, the same men who would tie a tractor bolt to the tree and call it an ornament, might also laugh in secret at your piece of macaroni glued to a piece of construction paper but they have learned to conceal their mirth. 
     Remember also that the front of the tree may show those things which the woman of the house finds beautiful, but the back of the tree shows what is beloved by the family. It is there that you will find the true history of the family and what is in their hearts.