I think the Jews got it right, the marking of the new year in autumn. Leaving aside any debate about whether life begins at conception or at birth,* there’s something intuitive and irrepressibly hopeful, poetic even, about the seeds of some future beginning taking hold in autumn, lying dormant and warm beneath the earth over the cold, dark, hard winter, to nudge their vernally green buddy heads above the surface of snow-scruff and the pungent mud of spring. Certainly more intuitive than beginning the year on January 1st – only a week or so after the longest night of the entire year; hell, only a week or so after the season of winter has technically begun – when all the world (well, the northern hemisphere) is dead, still, and frozen. That’s supposed to represent a new beginning, then?!? What calendrical maniac hoodwinked a whole culture to swallow hook, line, and all that the new year should begin smack dab in the chapter of death and darkness? It just doesn’t feel right. Read the rest of this entry »
Tag Archives: winter
Yes, it’s chilly. And yes the ground is brown, the leaves long gone. You might say it’s desolate, even depressing. Death it seems is all-surrounding and conspiring against you. It’s taken over the air, the ground, the sun and the trees. The birds have flown off somewhere sensible, and the hunting season dictates that just about anything on four legs flee for dear life away from the awful crack of a rifle – deer especially. This is the entrance to the outdoor world, a kingdom that basically looks like the ruins of something since abandoned.
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