Midnight Christmas Eve
For maybe a couple years short of 60 years, it's been my personal tradition to be outside at midnight on Christmas. It doesn't matter which midnight, it's a busy time of year, but I often make both. I'm not exactly sure when it started, but I was a night owl highschool kid, at an age when Christmases were still a long ways apart, and my midnight walks stretched Christmas to the longest possible second. Now, as a 75 year old codger, Christmases seem to come more often than the time it takes to clean up the Christmas tree needles, and midnights seem to come later after a busy day, but I hate to stop a long time tradition. Something just wouldn't seem right to miss getting out there on a Christmas midnight.
Over the years here in the American midwest, there have been some pretty postcard snowy Christmases, some mild Christmases with no snow, bitter cold Christmases, and a few that were just plain dangerous to step out under the creaking, groaning, ice covered trees.
Tonight was a different one... We've had an unseasonably warm spell lately, and when I stepped out at 11:50 it was 37 degrees F (3 degrees C) and FOGGY! Most of the snow that I'd managed to get stuck in a little while back was gone, and everything was glistening wet with condensed moisture. Condensed fog dripped out of the trees like a gentle rain, and everything visual was muted by the dense fog. I headed down the hill by my house to a bike path, and walked south toward the local cemetery. I kept on south when the path turned west, and soon muted, blurry, stones started showing through the foggy night. I dropped off a teddy bear at the grave of a tiny girl who never knew a Christmas, and headed on south. The single lane crushed rock path was easy to see, but the stones off to each side were very muted. Reaching the south side of the cemetery, I found a spot between a couple of evergreen trees where I sometimes stargaze, and looked in vain for any sign of the stars of Christmas... Nope. Not tonight. Not a twinkle from the bright stars of Orion... No sign even of Jupiter, which would be drifting under Gemini. For that matter, the only thing I could see of the town water tower to my left was the red light on top. The fog was a mixed blessing... While there would be no stars of Christmas, the ugly, blinding, light pollution that has driven me back into the cemetery in recent years was pleasantly muted. I pressed the button on my Timex, and it was one minute past midnight.. MERRY CHRISTMAS! looking out over the harvested field to my south, I could see almost nothing through the fog... It could have been an ocean for all I could see. Uniquely pretty though. I've always loved the night.
I headed back by a route I seldom take... I walked west along the south edge of the cemetery, admiring the Christmas lights that appeared in the south part of town. I HATE light pollution, but Christmas lights are pretty, not blinding like badly designed streetlights, and they're temporary. Heck, I've got some on my own house... Turning north on "Center Street," I walked along the west edge of the cemetery. Getting closer to the church, many of the stones were older... These people knew Christmases long ago. I turned on my street, and headed east back home. Most of the houses on my street are older, (mine was built around 1910,) and along with people's Christmas lights, it can show a bit of Christmas charm. Finally, I turned up into my gravel driveway, and I was home.
I wish a very Merry Christmas to all who may read this ramble...!
Marty
For maybe a couple years short of 60 years, it's been my personal tradition to be outside at midnight on Christmas. It doesn't matter which midnight, it's a busy time of year, but I often make both. I'm not exactly sure when it started, but I was a night owl highschool kid, at an age when Christmases were still a long ways apart, and my midnight walks stretched Christmas to the longest possible second. Now, as a 75 year old codger, Christmases seem to come more often than the time it takes to clean up the Christmas tree needles, and midnights seem to come later after a busy day, but I hate to stop a long time tradition. Something just wouldn't seem right to miss getting out there on a Christmas midnight.
Over the years here in the American midwest, there have been some pretty postcard snowy Christmases, some mild Christmases with no snow, bitter cold Christmases, and a few that were just plain dangerous to step out under the creaking, groaning, ice covered trees.
Tonight was a different one... We've had an unseasonably warm spell lately, and when I stepped out at 11:50 it was 37 degrees F (3 degrees C) and FOGGY! Most of the snow that I'd managed to get stuck in a little while back was gone, and everything was glistening wet with condensed moisture. Condensed fog dripped out of the trees like a gentle rain, and everything visual was muted by the dense fog. I headed down the hill by my house to a bike path, and walked south toward the local cemetery. I kept on south when the path turned west, and soon muted, blurry, stones started showing through the foggy night. I dropped off a teddy bear at the grave of a tiny girl who never knew a Christmas, and headed on south. The single lane crushed rock path was easy to see, but the stones off to each side were very muted. Reaching the south side of the cemetery, I found a spot between a couple of evergreen trees where I sometimes stargaze, and looked in vain for any sign of the stars of Christmas... Nope. Not tonight. Not a twinkle from the bright stars of Orion... No sign even of Jupiter, which would be drifting under Gemini. For that matter, the only thing I could see of the town water tower to my left was the red light on top. The fog was a mixed blessing... While there would be no stars of Christmas, the ugly, blinding, light pollution that has driven me back into the cemetery in recent years was pleasantly muted. I pressed the button on my Timex, and it was one minute past midnight.. MERRY CHRISTMAS! looking out over the harvested field to my south, I could see almost nothing through the fog... It could have been an ocean for all I could see. Uniquely pretty though. I've always loved the night.
I headed back by a route I seldom take... I walked west along the south edge of the cemetery, admiring the Christmas lights that appeared in the south part of town. I HATE light pollution, but Christmas lights are pretty, not blinding like badly designed streetlights, and they're temporary. Heck, I've got some on my own house... Turning north on "Center Street," I walked along the west edge of the cemetery. Getting closer to the church, many of the stones were older... These people knew Christmases long ago. I turned on my street, and headed east back home. Most of the houses on my street are older, (mine was built around 1910,) and along with people's Christmas lights, it can show a bit of Christmas charm. Finally, I turned up into my gravel driveway, and I was home.
I wish a very Merry Christmas to all who may read this ramble...!
Marty
