I am amazed by how the river changes every day. Sometimes drastically. The Coast Guard ice chopper has been regularly going up and down creating a liquid river within the ice of the river so boats can pass through. This path today looks like a thick, silver, mirror-like ribbon that cuts through the ice following the deeper channels; here cutting close to the shore, there way out past the lighthouse. Huge chunks of ice form bergs that cling to either end of the chunk of rock the lighthouse sits on. The tide has also created these clusters of ice along the shores– huge piles of crystalline chunks of ice. I tried to capture the impressive solidity of the ice in a photo, but the outcome, not surprisingly, falls short of the reality.
The light is beautiful this afternoon at around 3:30–bits of blue can be seen where the clouds have turned puffy, as the daytime flurry storm moves on. Meanwhile, the dense clouds of the new, more severe storm are moving in, and plaster the western sky with pearly gray cloud cover. So many different cloud shapes. It feels warm; it’s around 30 degrees. I am mesmerized by the pale gold sun hanging low, slowly going down–it’s edges softened by the hazy clouds. In my mind, this is the iconic winter sun, and the light it emits is faint but poetic. The sun is setting later and later–sunset is now almost ten after five. According to the calendar, we are just about halfway to spring.
Each year, this time of “halfway to spring” becomes more meaningful to me. Falling this year on February 3rd, it is the midway point between the winter solstice and the vernal equinox. This is an observed holiday for many religions, usually falling on the 1st or 2nd of February. There is a lot of history here, which I won’t go into. What resonates with me is the idea of a cross-quarter day that segments the four seasons into eight. It’s especially meaningful in winter when we need a date to help mark our passage through this cold, dark time. These incremental moments pull us through.
That said, it is a perfect time to figuratively curl up under the ground, sleep and dream of the new year deep inside us. I am taking a hiatus here, and I’m not sure what this space will look like on the other side. I really appreciate the friends who have been keeping up with me here, and I want to thank you deeply for reading.