To everything, there is a season

Dad had a point once, when he said that the "official" start of every season is actually late by twenty-two days. You know how summer does not officially kick off until June 22, autumn on September 22, etc? Why not just bump it all back to the beginning of these respective months? I mean, do we really think that December 18th, for instance, is still autumn? Or that Saint Patrick's Day is in the winter? We proposed the following:

Winter: December 1.
Spring: March 1.
Summer: June 1.
Fall: September 1.

There. Isn't that how we already think of it, anyway?

What puts me thinking about this is that it seems to have suddenly switched seasons. Here in the Pfalz, they call last month "goldener Oktober." And for good reason! It was sunny and pleasantly warm, but the leaves were still bronze and copper and beautiful. There were grapevines and winefests, and the sun rose at, like, six-thirty am.

All of a sudden, it's like a curtain has dropped! Just in the last week, too. One morning, it was eight o'clock and I was walking to school in the sunshine without a jacket. The next morning, it was dark, cold, and foggy, and the sun decided to go down at what seemed like four-thirty in the afternoon. Seriously! It was dark at a quarter after five today! If I get out of school at 3:30 (typical for Mondays and Tuesdays), then I have less than two hours of daylight in which to go jogging or run errands, before it's too dark to do anything by yourself. It's been raining for a week, and the grapevines are a bunch of scraggly sticks. Hmph. Most disagreeable. I think the standard way people add some sparkle to the darkness is with Gluehwein and gingerbread, both seemingly excellent options; but frankly, I've gotten fat enough since I've been here, and so I've *just* decided to cut out the sweets and alcohol for a while. Nice going, Nikki!

On the bright (get it? :) ) side, the Christmas decorations are going up already. Now in Arizona, I would scoff at the idea of ribbons on streetlights before December 1st. There, it feels like forced "Xmas" cheer, rammed down your throat as early as possible in a thinly-veiled attempt to cash in on the pre-season buyfest; holiday-themed car commercials and garish Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer cartoons in shop windows, advertising 99 cent cheeseburgers... all made as shallow and meaningless as possible, because God forbid we actually admit there's some sort of *religious* connection to this holiday, and someone gets offended and decides not to spend their money at our chain store. Which is even more ridiculous, because no one is fooled, for example, into thinking a Christmas concert is not exactly that, just because one vague, generic, non-religious Hanukkah song about a feast of lights and a couple of "ya-ba-bim-bam"s are mixed in among the fifty other songs hailing the Blessede Birthe of Our Lorde and Savioure Jesus Christ, Hallelujah, to His Mother, the Blessed Virgin, Ave.

Here, on the other hand, there's something decidedly un-commercial about the garland-hung streets. It's like everyone just realized that it's time to drive some of this sudden darkness away with tiny points of white light, and maybe offer a bit of Lebkuchen in the bakeries, too. The decorations feel like something that is done for you, rather than to you. And maybe it's just the sixteenth-century architecture, or the fog on the ancient hills, but the way the Advent season is celebrated around here seems to recall the Yule traditions, born of ties to the land and seasons, that gave us holly decorations and lights in the first place. It's comfortable, calming, cozy; something about it speaks to the ancient part of you that remembers your ancestors huddling close together around a fire and telling stories, deriving comfort from the closeness of community against the vast dark forests around them. And yet at the same time, it is also unabashedly religious, which seems a much more honest way to celebrate the season than our American need to cover all our consumer bases. If you celebrate Christmas, then you celebrate Christmas; if you don't, no amount of calling it a "holiday" sale is going to trick you into thinking the rest of the religious majority isn't trying to foist their Xmas buyfest upon you.

All righty, well, this post is long enough. Lange Rede, kurzer Sinn: it's getting dark around here, but there are tiny white lights aplenty. :)