Heading towards the winter solstice, the days are cropped short. I ski in the woods. The next afternoon, after a spurt of warmth, I remove my skis to navigate around patches of tree roots, the exposed carpet of pine needles.
By 4:30, darkness envelopes us, velvety and broken only by our brief human endeavors of a line of twinkling holiday lights, streetlamps, parking lots lit up like precious jewels. Like a wild creature roused by these warm December nights, I prowl through the village and along the river.
Returning home one late afternoon, I pause beside Woodbury Lake. A crescent moon illuminates the blue-black sky, the outline of its orb a faint round: a promise of January’s full wolf moon. Twilight’s but a few moments, molten gold rapidly consumed by the unstoppable night.
I remind myself that December is the time of descent, that the darkness I eyed so warily in October is now my mellifluous friend. I’ve been here before, in so many seasons of my life — dissatisfied and cracked, heart-full, my eyes attuned to starlight. Living into December and the solstice and the winter stretching ahead means stepping into the world’s great vessel, full of so much.
Here’s an article about the world’s first seed bank forwarded to me by a reader.
Stony Soil Vermont 
Beautiful. Your description of this quiet, dark season in nature and soul resonates and inspires me. Thank you.
December is deeply spiritual time I think, in whatever way resonates most deeply with people.
Beautiful. You took us there with you.
Thank you for coming along!
My pleasure to venture there.
Something about snow certainly enhances the stillness of this season. We don’t get much down here in the South but when it happens, it is mystical.
Snow is like nothing else. Hard rain today….
The trip by the lake and through the village was peaceful. Then the article of the seed bank went from torturous to hopeful.
Quite a synopsis!
4:30PM would be early for Texas but in northern Sweden where I am originally from it’s pretty much dark all day long at this time. It’s pretty close to the arctic circle. My wife and I lived there for a while and she did not like it at all.
I would be with your wife!
Fantastic piece of writing…every bit!!
“Twilight’s but a few moments, molten gold rapidly consumed by the unstoppable night.” What could be a more quintessential description?♥️
Thank you!
This post really is magical Brett. You ensconce us in December and its spirit. I love the way you reminisce about how we all (in the Northern Hemisphere) were feeling the December tug in October. I sense people love December because the reality of the cold triggers enough reflection to cherish the hygge of your couch and a blanket and the conviviality of an evening meal with children in the blue black velvet twilight. Again, thanks for this piece and to all the readers reveling in it…so meaningful.
And I forgot to say too I appreciate how the last handful of posts have steadily built up to this post, a December avalanche if you will. Well played…and written. It is another sign you write from the heart.