Reminiscing Christmas, 2014
As the plane emerged from the sightless fog, the light of three spheres greeted me. It was a salutation of children too busy with their own amusement, of titans too great to forsake their labour, of celestial beings too distant to be discernible.
The lights of men glittered below whilst the stormy hammerwork went on, striking without warning. Indifferent to the miniscule energies of artificial light and planetary discharges, the stars above blazed silently, their point-like aloofness belying their Einsteinian prowess.
That would be Christmas – and who is to say that it may be, ultimately, a celebration of light? But of course, of light it was, and it was to be; the light at the end of the tunnel that many seemed to have traversed. The light at the end of the tunnel, which was but a sightless fog that none could peer through prior; and when we finally left it behind, only the the glory of what lay ahead was apparent.
Perhaps all that lay ahead was all that mattered.