dazzle in the dark

A cold December morning it is. And goodness and mercy are around me. Dark, dark days and bright, bright lights. Wowee lights, as my son used to call them, when we would drive around to see twinkles on the houses.

One place a few blocks down we’ve dubbed the landing strip. The homeowners there simply revel in glitz, in what we consider overkill. You know where you are, though, definitely, when you turn off River Road. Bedazzled, you know you’re almost home.

For years we visited Spokane whenever possible for Christmas, because Tim’s parents lived there. Snow was usually an accompaniment. The whole town was whiteness-brightened. Twinkle lights looked greeting card stylish. But I suppose the contrast didn’t strike me as starkly there, due to less gloom.

May your days be truly merry, gracefully bright, as we step afresh into longing for that good thing to be revealed.

If you need something to read this weekend, I'll be a guest on Saturday at Arlee Bird’s blog, Wrote by Rote, memoir-related essays my theme. Looking forward to some holiday travel across the Internet!