Rainy Holidays

We've been trying to think of what to say here for the holidays. We're feeling pretty quiet. It's been raining. It's like living in Ken Kesey's novel Sometimes A Great Notion. The rain has a presence like a well-written character. It dominates the landscape, both external and internal. The 40 degree temperatures do not vary, the light does not change except that day becomes night -- gray becomes black. The rain continues.
The birds teach us a valuable lesson. When it rains they seek out the newly formed puddles and bathe up a storm. It's their own version of "when life hands you lemons." I like their joie de vivre. We try to emulate their ecstasy. We put on music and dance. The rain continues.

What do we say for the holiday that has so many meanings--so many myths-- both religious and secular, spiritual and material. We don't celebrate. We have no traditions other than to acknowledge the sun and its return. It takes the earth a day to make one revolution, and it will do that 365 times to fully circle the sun. We are somewhere on that rolling earth, somewhere far from the sun's rays, waiting for our turn to be much, much closer.
So I searched for vintage Santa images on the internet. What do I know? I'm a Jewish girl who never celebrated Christmas, but I found such artistry in the old cards with a beauty and richness that puts me in the mind of simpler and easier times. They remind me of the utter joy of make-believe, of a conjured world where there is no war and everyone is well-fed, out of harm's way, and free.

These are our holiday dreams, and best wishes to all of our friends on whatever holiday you celebrate. The rain continues, so we dance.