“Summer and winter,
Springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above,
Join with all nature in manifold worship
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.”
Great Is Thy Faithfulness, T. O. Chisholm and William M. Runyan
Today after church, a friend and I shared our mutual excitement over the fact that in just a couple of weeks the days will start getting longer again. Vikki and I track those additional minutes. Tracking daylight has been an annual ritual for me for many years. Before computers, I did the figuring from THE OLD FARMER’S ALMANAC—an arduous process, and I probably made many errors. Now I let the U. S. Naval Observatory do the math for me, via a website.
There may be people who never give the length of daylight a second thought, and perhaps couldn’t care less. But for some of us, just knowing that the sun is on its way back to our hemisphere is a huge comfort. Night is soothing, and welcome after a full day. But I love daylight with a passion! When Daylight Saving ends, darkness descends with a thud—and winter is the next thing. But the chill of winter is always eased for me, by the fact that our days are stretching at both ends.
As the beloved hymn based on Lamentations 3:23 affirms, the seasons bear witness to God’s faithfulness. Life changes. Our circumstances change. The blessing of good health can vanish in the flash of a moment. But God’s faithfulness is constant—summer and winter, springtime and harvest!
Note: According to the Navy chart, our village of Nashotah, Wisconsin will have 9:00 hours of daylight from December 16th through Christmas Day. On December 26th, we will have 9 hours and 1 minute—and by January 1st, 9 hours and 4 minutes. From there on the daylight will increase right up to the summer solstice. How great is that! 🙂
I love those late afternoon long shadows on the snow, beginning in February. This year I hope to capture them in watercolors. Emily Dickinson wrote about the shadows: “There’s a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, That oppresses like the weight, Of cathedral tunes.”
Unlike Emily, I find the “slant of light” inspiring rather than oppressing. However there is poignant loneliness implicit in a winter twilight, and maybe that’s what Dickinson experienced—a longing for more light, and springtime.
If I listen carefully I can almost hear the long blue shadows whispering across the snow, “Not yet. Not yet. Wait, just wait!”
Margaret L. Been, ©2011
Grace with Salt -- Biblical Reflections by Margaret L. Been 