It's no coincidence that many of us spend the early days of this month in reflection on the events of the old year while plotting a course correction for the year ahead. After all, January gets its name from the god Janus, who had two faces on his head, one looking forward the other back.
I often begin the year wondering about its end. Will someone in my life be gone by the start of the next year? Will I? Morbid, maybe. But it's part of the unknown that frightens me just a little bit. I don't tend to think on it again as the days move along. Just during the countdown and immediately after as I hold myself up to the early beats of the infant year.
The winter here, so far, has been profoundly easier than last year's. Our opening snow Nov. 9th has been nearly our total so far. Today we enjoyed sun and mid 40s. Our low tonight should just touch the freezing mark. I read in Star Date yesterday that the earth was actually closer to the sun than it will be again this year, 1.5 million miles closer than average. These numbers astound me. The night sky here on a cloudless night is dazzling with stars. The Milky Way is clearly visible. The planets are brilliant.
while electrifying to the eyes in the deep southwest, dusted the opposite sky as with pastel chalks, soft whispers.
As the sun was just about to slip below the horizon, it shown through the sewing room window, through the living room, to inflame the wreath on the dining room's front door. Just one moment later and it was gone.
I think perhaps what I hope for myself in the year ahead is that I don't miss those precious, grace filled moments that come, and surprisingly often, but are in danger of slipping away unnoticed.