The cold has finally come - at least for a short while - but here in the piedmont of North Carolina, no ponds are frozen, and there is an unlikely chance that we'll have snow for Christmas. I suppose I'll just have to make my own -- on paper, at least! LOL
After such a party-filled workweek, it's been a far more quiet weekend. I've prepared our Christmas spaghetti sauce (traditional for our family) and a few other things, and all that remains is the cheesecake from my mom's recipe om and handed down to all her children and grandchildren.
We drove around a few towns last night to view the Christmas lights and beautifully decorated homes, a display of decorated and lighted tractors (so much a part of our rural life), big Santas and snowmen, Crèches, candles in windows, snowflakes -- a wonderland indeed.
What struck me most, I think, were the lights .....those bits of brightness against the mantle of black sky.
Each tiny bit of illumination seemed to defy the cold depth of the dark - offering a glimmer of optimism and promise against the deep vastness of space ...
Ancient peoples worshipped the light, the sun - and knew the power of a tiny spark, and how that one glowing ember could light the world. These days, with lights and warmth at our fingertips, we tend to take them all for granted...and forget the miracle that they are ....
But driving around in the cold, ebony evening, those bits of light glowed their messages of hope ..
And isn't that what this season is all about?
Sunday, December 18, 2011