There is sunshine today. For many people, that’s an everyday occurrence, but that is not true where I live. Here, the first day of spring is simply another day on the calendar, not a true beginning of change. It comes with no promise of warmth and growth, only more shadow and cold. One day last week, it snowed all day long. Big, fat flakes fell constantly and the neighbor’s tree that was trying to bloom, seemed to shrink and droop under the weight.
Winter here begins with a dimming of the light as the days grow shorter and the clouds more omnipresent. If it had been the first snowstorm of the year, it would have been wonderful, holding the promise of cozy nights by the fire, warm stews and thick, hand-knitted mittens. In April, however, it conjures none of that. Instead, it only signals more darkness and dread.
But as I said, today there is sunshine and it holds a new promise. The light is finally growing. It seems to start with the move to daylight savings time, an odd practice in our digital age. The mornings, which had been steadily crawling toward daylight, are dark once again. But the late afternoon grows brighter, lasts longer, and there is a sense that something inviting may follow.
On my back deck, there is a spot where the light bears down, heating the dark surface. It is still too early for patio furniture so I sit on the wooden floor and lean against the house, absorbing the sun and warmth. In this light is the promise of leaf covered trees and T-shirts, of bare feet and sprinklers. The light tells us that summer will come, that we will finally emerge from the long night of winter.
Here, we measure our days in light. In these difficult times, may yours be filled with it.
