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it’s that dark time of year and with each passing year, i feel increasingly the oppressiveness of the winter darkness. of course, winter was darker than summer where i grew up, but i live a lot farther north now. for example, chicago is on parallel with rome. where i live now, in denmark, the hudson bay. so the winter darkness is significant here.

but with the darkness, come thoughts of light. and memories of light. and somehow, along with the candlelight so prevalent in december, it carries me through...

...a cold, clear march night. a taste of moonshine. and the greenish, eerie glow of lights dancing on the northern horizon.

...a summer night on the prairie. lying on an old wooden bridge in the middle of a pasture, creek flowing below, the song of frogs, crickets and cicada filling the warm night air. strangely undiscovered by mosquitoes, watching the night sky darken and fill with a million stars. the sounds of my own laughter and our low voices, carrying through the night air. filled with the carefree joy of youth and of youthful infatuation and being full of oneself and the feeling of being alive. the light of the stars coursing through our very veins in the warm night air.

...fast forward to another summer, the waters of the volga flowing timelessly past, the winds of time and history washing over me. the summer nights stretching on and on, filled with laughter and song. and the scent of white linen breeze in the waning endless golden hours of sunset.

...warm breezes blowing in off the adriatic, ancient walls trace their trails down a hill. a plate of cool, green melon. a bottle of red wine. a heated discussion of postmodernism in the long twilight hours as night slowly settles in.

and with these, from the darkness, i can recognize that there is an unbearable lightness of being..