All that glitters ...

It’s Wednesday night; I’m walking home after a drink with some friends. Tonight is the night of the big freeze; the great temperature drop that signifies the transformation of autumn into winter. As I walk home I gaze down at the pavement and slowly, sub-consciously become aware of glitter - magical lights sparkling off everything into the winter air beyond the screen of my cold breathy air.

I’m confused for a moment - what is it that I’m looking at? Why is everything sparkling, glowing, glittering like diamonds? I look up and realise that frost is everywhere, on the walls, on the cars, the trees. The cold begins to penetrate my clothing, my hands, my bones.

I stop and throw my head back to see the sky and stars. Orion’s Belt shines back at me from the clear, still, dark sky. It is a startling moment – the very instant that winter has arrived.

Earlier that evening, I entered the club and stripped off my coat and immediately felt two pairs of eyes boring into me; two friends glaring enviously at me. I was wearing a glittering top – one that I love dearly because I know it looks good on me. It felt great to be envied. It doesn’t happen often and it’s a delicious inward hug that you give to yourself – wicked, self-indulgent, selfish and unrepentant pleasure.

On Thursday, I woke up to a white and dangerous morning. Stepping out onto the street to rush off to work, I nearly cartwheeled over my own footsteps. Sheet ice everywhere. I have never ever had such a trying time walking to work! All the cars inched along on roads covered in black ice; and as for me – I was forced to take tiny steps, teetering along on the edges of my heels, trying not to fall flat on my face, watching jealously as the schoolkids shot along the pavements, skating their way to school.

Last night again, the mysterious glitter was everywhere, reminding me of that little edge of danger that comes with something so beautifully bewitching. The sparkle only comes because of the play of light and dark, because of the bleak season of dark, miserable mornings. Only in the dark do the magical lights play on our senses, seducing us into an acceptance of the cold short hours as we inch along slowly towards the Winter Solstice.