The Long Dark

As we pass through the Winter Solstice, I think of pivots.

I wake in the dark, work in the dark, go to bed in the dark. This day is the darkest of the dark days of winter.

We’re not meant to spend too much time without light. Energy drains the longer the night stretches, the more we hear of that queer electrical hum that hits when the dark is thickest.

It’s easy, in tales and in light, to dwell endlessly in darkness. There’s beauty and mystery there as well as frustration and exhaustion. For those who wish to sit there endlessly, it is easy to point to the anemic half-light that hits for a few minutes somewhere between dawn and dusk.

“See,” they say. “There’s some light here. But what really matters is the darkness.”

I love the dark.

I also love the way it turns to day.

Eternal darkness does an injustice to the balance of the world.

It is an incomplete snapshot, a story half-told and less truthful than a full lie.

Because the darkness does turn.

Because today marks the waning of its strength.

Because slowly we move towards the first pale fingers of warmth breaking through the mountains.

The darkness is beautiful.

So is the slow, inexorable movement towards spring.

IMG_0549Darkness is a movement, not a static state

As always, I am interested in transition points and movement. Darkness is a significant part of the movement in my own life.


For my own take on darkness and not-darkness, feel free to check out my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor. It  is available here.

All Panned Out

There are a thousand of them on the rainshadow slopes.

If you follow the landslides and the exposed veins of copper, you can hardly miss them.

They are frozen moments of time, carts and tools left scattered at the base-

As if someone stopped working one morning and walked away-

Never to return.

The miners dreamed big dreams.

Few became rich, but the gold sat heavy in the backs of their eyes.

I could compare their madness to writing.

I do not know if that is fair to either of us.

All I know is when I begin to type, I hold my breath-

And plunge eagerly into the darkness.

IMG_9008We scrabble in the darkness, searching for light


If you would like to see more of own attempts at uncovering treasure, I have also written a fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor. It is available here.