l love the way day turns to night, the shadows rising til’ just the tips of trees catch the light. l never feel our lonely place in the universe so deeply as then, spinning away from our single sun.
The changeable nature of water makes it a perfect barometer—from liquid to solid to liquid to gas, it’s the perfect element to gauge the turning of the seasons. Now as the ice melts more, and sooner, it has become a barometer of a more encompassing change.
January 1st always seemed like a rather arbitrary day to start a new year, well placed only for swearing off the overindulgence of recent holidays. l later learned that it morphed from the Roman feast celebrating Janus, god of beginnings and endings, passages and time. lt then made more sense. A New Year’s bonfire has been a family tradition, a tangible expression of endings and fresh starts.