Taylors Falls Fire and Ice Season

Taking pictures at night, in the cold, with moving subjects, is a challenge. Here's enough to give you a taste of the Lighting Festival and Parade that took place down the road last night in Taylors Falls.

Fire in ice at Coffee Talk

Photo by J. Harrington

The lights are lit

Photo by J. Harrington

Cub Scouts' float

Photo by J. Harrington

A "new fashioned" Christmas tree

Photo by J. Harrington

Santa, Mrs. Claus and elf

Photo by J. Harrington

The atmosphere and architecture last night were almost enough to make me feel like I was back in New England. I had fun. You should try to make it next year.

As I write this, the rest of the family is putting up the tree we went and got this morning. I'm not avoiding work, just remembering the "too many cooks" advice. My selection of Christmas music was roundly criticized because it wasn't the "traditional" Amy Grant cd we played last year. I was told that I had started a tradition. I knew that, but thought the tradition I started was that I got to pick the music, not that Amy had to be played first. Live and learn.

Decorating the Tree
by Kevin Crossley-Holland 

A new poem grown from the ideas, images and lines of London primary schoolchildren. Commissioned by the Poetry Society 2013 

I am your tree. I grew in the north,
Year by year in the seasoned earth.
Sift, white shift, snowflakes, stars:
I was storm-shelter for carolling birds.
Dear creatures, what gifts have you brought?

The fresh mint of light. The dancing moon.
The hooves of reindeer, prancing on air.
The boom of a waterfall.
Wreaths of mist, twisting, rising.
We bring you time, come and gone.

I am ancient and always young
And I speak with countless tongues.
Your Tree of Life, your Guardian Tree,
I'll watch over you by night and day.
Dear creatures, what gifts have you brought?

Oh, so many! A friend for always.
Laughter. Upside down frowns.
Skateboarding from roof to roof.
The best parts of our own best memories.
We bring you hopes. We bring our dreams.
But darker than bats' wings – we're afraid
Of the dark. This dread, this ache
Before we wake. So far from home.
That man with a gun. Being alone.
We bring our fears. We bring sorrows.

I'm your World Tree, scarred long ago,
Oozing, sharp as hoar-frost on a bough.
I creak and groan but I rise above gloom
And wherever you are, I'll be your home.
Dear creatures...
I am a gift. So are you,
and I'll feed you blossom and sweet fruit.
I laugh, I weep, I wait in patience,
I sing for the healing of all nations.
Dear creatures...

This is all a waking dream
and I'll remember it for ever,
Our trembling tree where we are one.
If I could, I'd give you my name.
I'll give you my heart. I'll give you love.

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