"The Sun'll Come up Tomorrow"

             

                                           "The sun'll come up Tomorrow" . . . Annie

                                                     

Was she just plain 'nuts', overly idealistic, maybe even a tad psychotic and greatly out of touch with 'reality'?  In what has become a kind of Seasonal ritual, watching the sunrise over the Atlantic for several mornings, I have decided that  Annie was on to something profound. December 21 was the year's shortest day or , if you prefer, the longest night of the year.  Now we begin the gradual movement towards the Summer's solstice.  In the meantime, the body feels the urge to feast on carbs ...aka, cookies, cakes, and other assorted baked goodies with the 3 plus or so pounds that  we average adding during the holidays.  Then often follow" Naps", the human variation of hibernation.

     Hibernation .  A dictionary calls it : "an adaptive process which is designed to protect individuals from the challenges of  winter time, particularly as it relates to energy  regulation".  Another source labeled the phenomenon as passing the  winter  "in a torpid or resting state",While we humans   do not  hibernate like other mammals, for various reasons our nervous  system transmits signals that cause people to indulge ravenous appetites and gain pounds resulting in lowered energy and sleepiness. As such, it isn't the same state as SAD ...Seasonal Affective Disorder, sometimes called "Winter Blues".

   "The Blues"  Is that term used  any longer other than as a musical genre ?  When someone is experiencing 'the blues', oldtimers might say that they were "down in the dumps".  In the last post, I noted that for many  this year's Christmas is "different" with a kind of  torpor or lethargy prevalent... a kind of emotional hibernation, perhaps.  

   Prolonged cold can kill, not only vegetation but people as well. So, too, can prolonged darkness.  And, for me, that is where Annie and her assertion enter.  Maybe it is akin to the Psalter's observation that while tears may mark the night, joy comes in the morning . . . the potential for a fresh start, kind of signal that there is more than just "right now". These recent mornings have also reminded me that 'not all sunrises are alike'.  When the recent cold blast swept in, clouds hid the multi-hues of brilliant light; then on Christmas Eve, I thought the sun's orb paused briefly on the horizon like a promise of Hope:

Recently I discovered a hymn that expresses that promise, New Every Morning is the Love:  " New Every Morning is the love

                 Our wakening and uprising prove,

                 sleep and darkness safely brought,

                 restored to life and power and thought.

    It now occurs to me that "morning" might just be a metaphor for Hope and not just a time on a clock.

    Good Morning ! to you .

       

            Satchel