CHRISTMAS EVE

 .....and suddenly it's Christmas Eve - casting a silent mystical spell over the raw, naked, shivering forest. The foggy, frigid, ice-encrusted day has dissolved into a misty pink twilight, which deepens quickly, gathers secret shadows, and  becomes night.

The night - this Christmas Eve - is filled with the haunting echo of memories, that breed freely in  unexpected moments and nourish our souls with bittersweet bouts of nostalgia and sentimentality.
We yearn for a halcyon time long-ago, that lingers tauntingly on a distant horizon and beckons us to return, but the journey is at first elusive and later futile. We finally settle to be placated by dreams and illusion.

Christmas Eve casts magical spells and activates limitless realms of the imagination.  

That was the poet in me, unleashed on this special night.
The brutal reality is that my day was annoyingly mundane. Snow was predicted but only flurries emerged.  By early afternoon it was a fog-shrouded 20 degrees (Fahrenheit).

I was in a mental and physical haze - - lethargic, unmotivated, tired. Surrounded by the counterfeit comfort of candles and colored lights. Sustained with hot tea, eggnog, and Christmas cookies. Entertained with a threadbare collection of time-worn holiday movies.

Remember that smoked ham I bought for Thanksgiving? Well, I saved it and froze it. Now it's a Christmas ham. I put it in the oven this afternoon. Delightfully tasty - with candied yams and green beans.

That was my boring day. My boring night will consist of watching a Bolshoi performance of  The Nutcracker (on video)...and more tea and cookies. And fervently praying that the water pipes won't freeze.
If I can't sleep (which is absolutely inevitable) I'll watch A Christmas Carol.  1951 Alastair Sim version. Classic version.

Nutcrackers, apples, oranges

 

Cookies and gumdrops

Winter mugs

Lights and candles

A prayer box that I got from an old church, circa 1850. The Pieta is made of porcelain.

 

May your night be ensconced in peace.  Jon