These nights are "clear and cold," as my dad would say.
Winter stars are icier, more remote, than summer stars. Icier and more remote, but more exquisite. Instead of a soft, comfortable sort of beauty, they're like Tolkien's Galadriel. Beautiful in a breath-taking, awe-inspiring... almost frightening sort of way.
I like night. All the colors laid to rest in the care of greys and blacks, the world is simpler. Closer. Both more and less secure because of what the eye cannot see. It's in the night that streetlights are as comforting as my striped mittens. It's the darkness that makes Orion my warrior and fields mine for imagining. It's also the knowledge of my lack of sight that makes me want light. Value it.
Making plans for the future makes me wonder where, who, and what I'll be in ten years. If the next ten hold half as much as the last five, only God knows. Five years ago, I was a painfully shy youngster, moving to Lancaster to teach school. I never anticipated the smooth deeps and frothy rapids ahead. Like darkness, lack of foresight is a blessed curse.
Some of my gypsy-girl wanderings have bade me "bon voyage" with riches I wouldn't trade for any sort of shiny metal... some have left me out in the dark and cold. All have left me with the comfort that
Light shines in the darkness for the upright (Psalm 112:4a)
and this is the same Light that madman John talked about... that Light that shines in darkness.
His name is Jesus. My Knight in Shining Armor. That radiance will guide me through the next ten years as it has the last five.
Where, who, what? Who knows? Here's to the adventure through the darkness that only accentuates Light!