As near as we can figure out, this year's snow cover (in the field behind the house) is about two weeks ahead of last year's. That may or may not be true a week or so from now, if the forecast of a couple of upcoming days near 50℉ holds true. All of which makes it challenging to even guess what Thanksgiving weekend may be like in a couple of weeks.
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| late November, 2019 or mid-November, 2020
Photo by J. Harrington
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Earlier today we checked to see if Taylors Falls will be having their 36th Annual Lighting Festival. They claim they will and they're "focusing on favorite outdoor activities and other Lighting Festival traditions that will help keep us safe." It's become something of a tradition for us to watch the Grand Lighting of the Village and Santa parade. This year there are likely to be long conversations about the risks and rewards of attending. In the years we have gone, we don't recall seeing room on the sidewalks for anything like the 6 foot social distance guidance being met. Then there's the question of whether on not the parade meets the definition of "Large public gatherings over 250 people." We certainly hadn't anticipated that the COVID-19 virus would turn into How the Grinch Stole Christmas!
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| Sigurd in his Christmas canoe
Photo by J. Harrington
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Scientists inform us that adaptation is a key factor in human evolution. Adapting our holiday traditions to minimize any contribution to the further spread of the accursed virus certainly seems to offer opportunities for creativity and starting new traditions. (Yes, Virginia, there was a time when we didn't know about the Taylors Falls Lighting Festival.) A day or so ago we mentioned a "new" tradition we started several years ago, cutting our Christmas tree from the pines on our property. Each year now we end up with our own "Charlie Brown tree." What do you think of the idea of trying to find a new tradition to start every year during the holidays. They may not all last over subsequent years, but the fun would be in figuring out new ones to start, especially this year. For example, over the past several years my sister, who lives "back home" in Massachusetts, has sent us a couple of Christmas figures I've fallen in love with, especially the first one, Sigurd, in his canoe. Sigurd is now part of our holiday tradition and would be sorely missed should he manage to get lost in the North Country or swamp his canoe.
Breezes blowin’ middlin’ brisk,
Snow-flakes thro’ the air a-whisk,
Fallin’ kind o’ soft an’ light,
Not enough to make things white,
But jest sorter siftin’ down
So ’s to cover up the brown
Of the dark world’s rugged ways
’N’ make things look like holidays.
Not smoothed over, but jest specked,
Sorter strainin’ fur effect,
An’ not quite a-gittin’ through
What it started in to do.
Mercy sakes! it does seem queer
Christmas day is ’most nigh here.
Somehow it don’t seem to me
Christmas like it used to be,—
Christmas with its ice an’ snow,
Christmas of the long ago.
You could feel its stir an’ hum
Weeks an’ weeks before it come;
Somethin’ in the atmosphere
Told you when the day was near,
Did n’t need no almanacs;
That was one o’ Nature’s fac’s.
Every cottage decked out gay—
Cedar wreaths an’ holly spray—
An’ the stores, how they were drest,
Tinsel tell you could n’t rest;
Every winder fixed up pat,
Candy canes, an’ things like that;
Noah’s arks, an’ guns, an’ dolls,
An’ all kinds o’ fol-de-rols.
Then with frosty bells a-chime,
Slidin’ down the hills o’ time,
Right amidst the fun an’ din
Christmas come a-bustlin’ in,
Raised his cheery voice to call
Out a welcome to us all;
Hale and hearty, strong an’ bluff,
That was Christmas, sure enough.
Snow knee-deep an’ coastin’ fine,
Frozen mill-ponds all ashine,
Seemin’ jest to lay in wait,
Beggin’ you to come an’ skate.
An’ you’d git your gal an’ go
Stumpin’ cheerily thro’ the snow,
Feelin’ pleased an’ skeert an’ warm
’Cause she had a-holt yore arm.
Why, when Christmas come in, we
Spent the whole glad day in glee,
Havin’ fun an’ feastin’ high
An’ some courtin’ on the sly.
Burstin’ in some neighbor’s door
An’ then suddenly, before
He could give his voice a lift,
Yellin’ at him, “Christmas gift.”
Now sich things are never heard,
“Merry Christmas” is the word.
But it’s only change o’ name,
An’ means givin’ jest the same.
There’s too many new-styled ways
Now about the holidays.
I’d jest like once more to see
Christmas like it used to be!
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Please be kind to each other while you can.
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