While I am actually loving the days on which I drive Second Child to school ahead of the bus and then get to go straight down to the shore for an early walk, today I quite began to long for the solstice, if only to have it done so the days will begin lengthening again. I know we still have Some Winter ahead of us here in New England; we always do. The turning of the calendar, though, makes a remarkable difference to me. Somehow coping with the snow that I know is still to come (and it’s not even the snow I mind; it’s our loved but drafty old 18th century house) is easier when there’s more light.
Today I dropped S.C. off at about 6:30 and made it to the beach just a few minutes later. It was still honest-to-god dark, with a faint pinky-blue glow to everything. Like the boardwalk:
and even the pavement in spots. The utility companies’ markings for gas and water and sewer lines looked like brilliant and playful grafitti, as if someone had been playing some kind of nocturnal sidewalk game.
It was pretty darn dark. Much more so than it was at the same hour even a couple of weeks ago.
Gradually it got lighter . . .
and lighter still:
But still everything had a remarkable blue cast to it, as if the light were being filtered. The ripples in the sand–the tide was low, low, low–were blue:
The water under the bridge over the tidal inlet was a flat, sere slate color. And so were my gloves. And the rocks at the water’s edge. And the bridge railing.
It was all quite wonderful, though. Maybe I can appreciate a few more days of growing darkness before the light comes back again.