As we approach Winter Solstice, there’s less sun, more rain, fewer sunsets blazing on my drive home at the end of the day, more gray fading into dark. Arriving home in the darkness at 5:30 PM, it is a relief to see our house glowing with twinkle lights and warm windows. And yet, when we get home, my four year old asks, “Mama, can we turn off all the lights?” And so we go room to room turning off even the small night light. Then with smile of delight, he turns on his little red flash light. He plays gleefully in the dark— throwing shadows, hiding under tables, making spotlights appear and disappear, crawling into blanket forts to make them glow. I inevitably get pulled into it, hiding behind a door to jump out and scare him into a startled laugh. When it is time to turn on lights and make dinner, there are always protests, then promises of candles lit for dinner time. With his tiny flash light, this child is reminding me to delight in the darkness, to embrace the opportunities offered as we approach the longest night. May your Winter Solstice be bright with candles, cozy with blankets, and filled with giggles in the dark.Each year on Winter Solstice, we read "The Shortest Day," available in my BookShop.org Shop, to connect to the experiences of humans through the ages during this time.
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AuthorTamara Clark lives, works, and writes in the Pacific Northwest. She is inspired by the work of the educators in Reggio Emilia, Anti-Bias Education, and Quaker education. Archives
December 2023
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