I sometimes wonder if I’m a reincarnated Druid.
While the world goes mad at this time of year in an orgy of consumerism and indulgence, I sit back and rejoice at the arrival of a different date.
I have my own little countdown which is slightly in advance of everyone else’s. While people are shouting “only four days to go”, I quietly say to myself “only one day to go”.
My day is the 21st.
I hate the Winter. Apart from the foul weather, I hate the darkness and the bare trees. I resent getting up in the dark, and then the day ending when it is still mid afternoon. I love the Spring especially, with the colouring in nature and the promises of warmer days ahead. I love the lengthening days and the miracle of growth all around me.
There is always a little twinge of sadness on June the 21st. It is the start of the long downhill slide to Winter.
But there is the corresponding delight at the arrival of the 21st of December. The days may not get noticeably longer for quite a while but there is the great consolation that they aren’t getting any shorter.
Tomorrow, I will celebrate.
I won’t be throwing any parties or getting drunk. I won’t be stuffing my face with food.
I will quietly greet the day, and my heart will be a little lighter.
And so will the days.