LONGEST NIGHT

Chestnut tree, Pacific Bonsai Museum, dusk, the night before the longest night.

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"[W]hen you see beauty in desolation it changes something inside you. Desolation tries to colonize you."

—from Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer, page 5 of the hardcover Area X: The Southern Reach edition.

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"They shall name it No Kingdom There,
   and all its princes shall be nothing.
Thorns shall grow over its strongholds,
   nettles and thistles in its fortresses.
It shall be the haunt of jackals,
   an abode for ostriches.
Wildcats shall meet with hyenas,
   goat-demons shall call to each other;
there too Lilith shall repose,
   and find a place to rest.
There shall the owl nest
   and lay and hatch and brood in its shadow;
there too the buzzards shall gather,
   each one with its mate."

—Isaiah 34:12-15, New Revised Standard Version.

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"They shall call the nobles thereof to the kingdom, but none shall be there, and all her princes shall be nothing. And thorns shall come up in her palaces, nettles and brambles in the fortresses thereof: and it shall be an habitation of dragons, and a court for owls. The wild beasts of the desert shall also meet with the wild beasts of the island, and the satyr shall cry to his fellow; the screech owl also shall rest there, and find for herself a place of rest. There shall the great owl make her nest, and lay, and hatch, and gather under her shadow: there shall the vultures also be gathered, every one with her mate."

—Isaiah 34:12-15, King James Version.

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"Jackals preying, sleepless ravens,
vultures, viper on the prowl.

  Foreclosed, foresworn the human.
Law and order your vaunt?
No; chaos—
ghosts, demons, satyrs
coupling, encamping
the corridors of darkness."

—poetic paraphrase of Isaiah 34:11-15, page 90 of Isaiah: Spirit of Courage, Gift of Tears by Daniel Berrigan.

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"Moreover, in the understanding of the great bard, nature becomes the revealer of nature. No creature is blind, he avers. No phenomenon is a dead end. Each leads beyond itself—even the ghosts and haunts that prowl our dreams and reveal to us or conceal from us that our moral darkness is hardly uninhabited."

—commentary on poetic paraphrase of Isaiah 34:11-15, page 91 of Isaiah: Spirit of Courage, Gift of Tears by Daniel Berrigan.

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The angels love their ranks, their hierarchies, their beloved order. We humans, made just a bit lower than gods, seem to love our chaos, our tumult, our churning darkness.

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And here I sit on the longest evening of the year, the winter solstice, having just marked the moment when the light starts to return, when the Day is parted from the Night.

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The world is filled, as it has always been, with warfare and conflict, natural disasters, death and destruction. Yet there is a part that is set aside, pulled like pitch or taffy from the main body, to ferment and foment into something new. A tithe of difference.

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And here I sit in the dark, dim light keeping the full darkness at bay, though barely. I try to remember the light. The good. The quiet. It is difficult.

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I remind myself: try not to succumb to the darkness, the desolation, the despair. Walk a path bordered in luminaries. Place the metal dish upon the humus and loam. Place the glass shade upon the dish. Place a small candle in the shade. Pause in prayer. Light the candle.

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Move along to the next lamp.

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And the next.

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And the next, with steady and sure footing.

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Longest night 2007.

Longest night 2012.

Longest night 2013.

Longest night 2014 A.

Longest night 2014 B. 

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(If there is anything that comes close to being a personal holy day for me, this day/night, winter solstice, is it.)