I have been lax with my blogging, particularly the writing part. I plan on being more with it in the New Year.
I posted this post several years ago. It speaks to what I feel about Christmas and what I feel we have lost as it has become more commodified each year.
I recall cold winter nights, almost minus 40 at night. My bedroom window was almost completely frosted over. On moonlit nights, the light kept me awake or that is what I told others.
To give you a sense of how sound travels in the cold, when we are at the farm during the winter, I hear the train (about a mile away) and it sounds like it is coming through the house.
Growing up in Northern Alberta, the Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis) and Christmas were a big part of growing up and it was not just their light show. I heard and saw them, dancing and crackling in the night sky. I thought the sky talked to me.
During Advent, my mom and older brothers walked across the street for evening Mass. The younger ones, including me, went to bed. I did not fall asleep right away and watched out the window. I thought no one saw me, but my Mom would come up and tell me to go to bed.
Peering through frosted window
Soaking it in.
A celebratory fury
An indisputable guide.
This old house speaks;
Sweet symphonic sounds shimmering.
Blanketed in white
Celestial colours speaking
Capturing young senses.
A vivid winter scene,
A sensual, sensory palette,
Christ’s Mass is here.