the lengthening days

The longest night has passed, and so has the earliest sunset. The sun already sets six minutes later than it did two weeks ago, and I am sensitive enough to the long nights that yesterday evening I noticed the difference.

We can’t count on much, not even the regularity of the seasons. I take solace in nature, but nature is scrambled, so there is a bittersweetness to my love of the sky and trees. At least we can count on the rising and setting of the sun, and that though it is winter, the days are now growing longer, a minute or so at a time.

That the days begin to grow longer when everything is so bleak and cold for me isn’t a metaphor for anything else. The lengthening days do not constitute a promise that anything else will get better. They promise only that a little bit more light will shine on us every day. That in itself is enough.