When I arise in the morning it is pre-dawn. As I drive home from work at 4:30 in the afternoon, it is dark again. People complain about the brevity of winter days, they say it depresses them. Not me. I enjoy coming home over the unlit road and seeing our little home, the windows illuminated by flickering candles. Those little lights glimmering through the gloom are so welcoming. When I come inside the first thing I do is open the vent on the wood stove and toss a couple of logs in. Soon there are dancing flames to delight my soul and warm my body. Then I illuminate "real" candles around the house.
When sunlight becomes a rarity during the long, dark, resting days of winter the light cast from flames touches something deep and primal in my soul. Fire on the hearth or the table is good light. Warm, soft and enticing, it encourages me to sit within the limits of its glow and just be still.
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