Silent Night Holy Night

 

“Silent Night, Holy Night.” This is a view from my front porch. This morning I stood in this same spot while waiting for an Uber to take me to work (I don’t ride a bike in cold winter rain if I can help it). In that photo there were ominous gray clouds sweeping across the horizon and dumping rain for most of the day. After rushing around the kitchen of a group home all day and readying for the Christmas feast tomorrow my son picked me up—still raining—and we had Chinese food for dinner, watched (part of) a movie, and opened a few presents. This is a far cry from our family tradition of all being together—the first ever of not being together—but it was still nice to have one-on-one time with my son. Then, after he left, I noticed the rain had turned to snow. So I poured a glass of wine and went and stood in this same spot while wearing a bathrobe and captured this image and felt the wet flakes hit my face. Then I tilted my head up like I used to as a kid in the housing projects 50 years ago and stuck out my tongue. Flakes landed on my tongue and it sent shivers to my toes (in a good way). This has been a tough year for many but I am optimistic about the coming one for so many reasons. I do not believe we will go back to what we once considered normal, I don’t think that is possible, but we will adapt and it will be good. We have no choice. And this is what I was thinking while standing on my porch in a bathrobe on Christmas Eve with a glass of wine in one hand a camera in another while sticking my tongue out catching snowflakes like I was 9 years old. Then again, maybe I was just happy not to be wearing a mask.

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