When The Darkness Begins

We are in the final week of November when winter begins on the West Coast.  It won't be official for another four weeks but here winter always begins in the last half of the eleventh month.  Often our first freeze occurs, though this year it seems a bit delayed.  It rains a lot and when the sun shines we really notice and celebrate.   For the first time the temperatures begin to stay at less than ten degrees centigrade (fifty for you lovers of Fahrenheit).  The trees, those that are not evergreen, are almost uniformly denuded and their bare branches are raised to the sky like hands in worship and adoration.  Moss and ferns gleam green from the tree trunks as though to taunt the arriving winter.  We will make it spring all winter long, they seem to be saying.

On these rainy days it always appears to be dark.  The sun remains chronically hidden and our eyes adjust to this dim reality.  Everything is always wet, the pavement, the grass, the benches.  Nowhere can you sit comfortably.  If you walk for a good distance you have to dress for it: good waterproof footwear, a warm coat and a big umbrella, and you must brace yourself for the distance for there will be no place outside where you can rest.

Negotiating a busy sidewalk with an umbrella, especially an obscenely big one like the ones I buy can be an art.  Most people don't have a clue and will often brandish their brollies like children carrying weapons of mass destruction.  It can be downright dangerous as clueless pedestrians and shoppers amble on, each the centre of their own little universe, totally oblivious to the existence of others.  Better to leave it folded and lean on it like a walking stick while walking under as many shelters and canopies as possible or tolerating the odd raindrop.

Then step into a residential neighbourhood or a park where you have all the space you need and you can raise up your umbrella and walk under it with confidence and comfort.  You will not see many folks out in this weather, aside from a few brave joggers and dog walkers.  Close your eyes, and inhale deep and you will feel almost intoxicated by the cold, sweet pure air. The solitude is a gift.  But it never lasts as you are again walking among others and surrounded by the homeless sheltering under doorways and awnings, some begging for spare change.  This is the time to resist the gathering darkness, to find some way of touching others, if only with a smile, or asking them how they are.  Even briefly with strangers on the sidewalk or on the bus.  Sometimes just a kind and friendly word can provide enough light to ward off the gathering darkness.

In this falling rain, this darkness of late November we are all like candles, like little votive candles and we each hold the power of lighting one another to give light against the darkness, to provide hope for the gathering winter, and to never forget to expect the coming spring which will soon, like a sudden and wondrous redemption, be upon us