Starlit, Sunlit, Candle-lit Moments

Starlit, Sunlit, Candle-lit Moments

A SHORT STORY

BY DIANE M QUINLAN

The four o'clock sunset winks a festival-timed event late in the winter afternoon. The sunset is earlier now this time of year and, can be seen just ready to make it way down below to the horizon before it dips. We can feel and notice the days begin to get shorter and, just before the black of nighttime takes over, we can expect a magical bonanza display of horizon setting light-works.

We get to be witnesses to sun setting rays reflecting off the branches and trunks of trees covered with ice and snow. They become lit torches against the red-orange and crimson-pink pre-evening sky sunset.

Before we can think back to when our autumn colours showed their majestic glory until the end of October; this November has shown its drabness and start to long winter sessions ahead.

The outdoors at sunset enters a drama-changing timetabled event. When all is ice, frost, and snow coated outside, you can expect from the evening's very start, an improved assembly of mystical fire lights. They will be seen turning twists every which way and give off their multi ice-silvered light displays unfolding, spreading winter wonderland scenes. These scenes have become a favourite Christmas card scene sent worldwide.

There is an over-all harmony of inner and outer glows coming from the trees themselves when kissed by the rays. They have reawakened from their saluting cold stance of daytime images encased in snow and ice.

On days when it is drab they are seen startlingly silhouetted against the backdrop of the snow’s given whiteness; black and white side by side, can enhance each other and all becomes severely outlined compared to any other seasonal period. It is when the sun is out and begins to ebb in the sky, the trees transform. The bareness and solidarity to their demeanour, no longer points out the shocking absence, of their usual coating of leaves that harbour tree creations.

The trees have become covered in snow and ice particles, and these coats have turned the tree branches into proceeding parade partakers carrying tri-colour fire lit torches that light up when kissed by the passing setting rays. Highlights are picked up reflecting off one another to yield a multi-lit brigade event. One cannot but think it is likened, to the visions of fairies expressing themselves with sparkle and glitter tri-lit magical sprites.

Mother Nature, thankfully has conceded to compensate her dull winters with this unique creative work done with light, ice and snow that her other seasons cannot boast. Our winter season would be left colourless making all the outdoors more severe to bear if not for this happening.

Her cold temperatures are forgotten for the time being when her light transformations bring about a disillusionment of having warmed the cold brisk near evening time. The trees especially when torched seem to glow and intensify from the trees very core.

Our winter sunsets turn the outdoors into favourite all-time winter wonderland scenes, likened to the Christmas season. Those of us who get to watch all this of course, at the same time are very glad to be watching all this from inside our cosy homes.

The first striking hits of light, as I have explained become are so colour intense when touching down over all the great outdoors. Incredible spectrums of silver spark highlight and dance while spreading about their different recharged colour tone bits. They become enshrined with facades, of staged multi-light mirage scenes topping the outdoor winter landscape, taking your breath away.One wishes to entrap and keep the flickering lights just like; how we succeeded in ensnaring fire-flies in a jam-jar as children. I recall the enchantment of that very first moment when I became overwhelmed by the dramatics given during winter. It was, and call me old and sentimental, I don’t mind, a touching and stirring recapped moment taking me back to other winters passing’s just like this.

But, this glow-light was so unnatural a light to be had and, the very realisation, I had not lit anything up, to give me cause to not question this, had so interrupted me from my traditional Christmas baking of meat pies that day.

There was so much disorder leading to panic, in what normally was a tidy country kitchen to work in, but to be thinking about the cleaned up ahead of me, well I just could not see myself getting through it all. I was ready for a well-earned break from the heat and frenzy my kitchen was causing.

It has been close to forty years I have been doing these meat pies to serve on every Christmas Eve and, even after years of practice, this was something I was never good at doing. I know that every mother, grandmother and great-grandmothers have taken their turns carrying on past family Christmas baking traditions for what they stand for today. If it is not a traditional meat pie on offer, other pies could fill the order. There are always the favourite fruit baked tarts, or if not tarts, then shortbread cookies or cookies with gumdrops, or all the above mentioned, would be favoured with the guest when put out on offer by the zealous Christmas baker.

I grabbed a cold cup of coffee long forgotten until now and followed the radiant glow's beckoning call into the dining room. I now stood before one of the front room windows considering how this tiny candle became a glowing beacon that was sitting on the sill. It was just an ordinary clear glass jar-shaped vase that I had filled with a see-through gel substance which was so popular long ago because you could decorate it for the whatever occasion you intended to celebrate. Mine having a silk rose immersed mid-way was giving a very attractive Christmas red and green touch.

The candle becomes iridescent, and the gel helps the flame's reflection to spread outwards throughout the gel and, come back upon itself from the glass sided of the jar. The mystery glow had combinations of sun setting colours and silver flashes that were mingled together bouncing off the ice-coated tree limbs

The window glass was catching the first glitter-works given off by sparks bouncing off the ice and snow of the nearby tree’s hanging branches. They were becoming fashioned into an intense beam fed by the window’s reflection that flowed through and then down, into the candle gel. What this mingling of effects produced to the centred silk flower was what made the candle a beacon of light.

The flame of the lit candle and gel-like substance burns clean and well and works just like any lit waxed candle. The gel's ability to transmit the light from the flame and add intense richness adding a warm and welcoming combination of bright oranges and yellows turning to flame redness. The charm of the gel was working its magic. The flower’s petals have beaded clear glass touches here and there that were picking up more highlighting feats. The rose is given to resemble bright coloured rain drops a flame coming to glitter against one another displaying the entire rose petals and leaves aglow and to be afloat in mid-air.

My rose was indeed (stage lit and, in an electrified life-like model giving it presence by becoming surrounded by this mystical twinkling fairy lit radiance, and this reminded me of being a child once again when I was charmed thrice with Tinkerbell’s magic in Walt Disney’s, Peter Pan movie. I was like so many other kids held spell-bound and made to believe in faeries and magic.

I am having to retake a second with a head-shake and. in doing so, and this brings me back to reality to ask why has this attracted me so? I am well past childhood, even though some family members would argue with me on that point if they were to see me now.

This glowing I was feeling my insides become warm from all these memories wrapping me up in a moment of (lost times), and it has made me so aware to the gifted quiet around me. I have returned to sit with this coffee cup at the dining room's holiday table settings I had laid out with care for our family Christmas Eve midnight dinner.

Never had I taken time out to sit and enjoy the warmth my creative touches brought. I found myself watching this “flame” again in my dining room (enlightening) me to take all in at the moment. My collective creative touches spoke out festivity happenings with clarity. I look at me and look at all the other decorated rooms.

I could detect from looking out from the dining-room entrance hallway, glimpses of the lit Christmas tree coming from the sitting room. Now, these lights I know, I had turned on earlier in the afternoon. My shiny gift-wrap paper placed all around the presents glistened their firelight as well. Christmas lights above had set off their glitters.

The placing of the lights on the tree always was a chore for me. Every year it was an extra bonus when the lights worked. It seemed other years in the past, and I was forever replacing a strand that I could swear worked last year. I was always happy to just get the job over with and moved forward to the next task on my forever non-ending Christmas chore list.

All, now with the completion of meat pie making my touches now came together. I was almost finished and caught up except for the clean-up waiting for me back in the kitchen. I am always rushing and getting myself in a Christmas turmoil, forever trying to make it unique and, this frenzy was now more so felt this year around. Old age has made itself felt and, sad though it is in the knowing it has finally caught up to me I am having to deal with doing less is more.

I guess my husband who always stood to look on from on the sidelines was right all these Christmas seasons, in thinking I over-do it every year. Not that I complain, but the poor man many a time had his foot nailed to the floor while having the other try to navigate its way through a round-a-bout.

This time now brings me to the excitement before this eve starts and I am wondering how everyone will be delighted being together to share a family Christmas cheer. But this year around, I am going to study long and hold that moment I see their faces light up.

I never really spent much thought to the fact, it was all because of me my family was made to feel special and loved during Christmas. They have grown up yet another year older as we all have. Tonight, my boys will be returning, in a short time later, I hope, to yet again join another homecoming event. I am sure they are aware of me being their mother, that I was again helping to carry this family's tradition further and, I think of the time when it will be their turn to do this for the next generation.

There are no grandkids just yet. Our youngest son just got married only two years ago, and will be bringing his, my new daughter-in-law, back with him. They are just taking their time adjusting well to married life.

I had to learn like all mothers do much later that their growing children’s years pass by all too quickly for parents. They do grow up and before we realise this, we, while I wipe a tear or two, are always made aware it is too late before we know it and, for us who are left behind that time was spent and gone.

I am sure they are aware of me being their mother, that I was again helping them carry this family's tradition and think of the time when it will be their turn to carry on from the last time I was able here in this their childhood home. I wish I could turn those times back; sad as it is, to know that this time has been long gone and spent. Life and time speeds by whether we are ready for it or not.

What blessed memories I have had causing a stray tear or two to wipe away and, I make myself to remember and make sure, I thank my Angels for all these blessings.

A short time has passed, but it felt like hours passing but the quiet still lingers.The light show outside reveal the last twilights glisten before going out. I feel gifted watching the last of this late afternoon finale. The very last of the (glow), is now playing out on my floor below the window where the candle is sending it. I can catch the fading myriads of dancing rainbow-coloured-prism enactments and, I find myself bending down and playing alongside with them. It is my ring that is now taking stage front with its diamond setting having picked up the light, and it too is having its play date. It is reflecting its kaleidoscope bolts of a silver spark display. And I notice the colours within the prism spectrum are now feasting on what light remains. I find intriguing how the lights sift through my fingertips; I remember the day when my husband gave me my engagement ring asking me to be his wife forty-six years ago,

I stand now in nighttime darkness, and the sun has gone but, not all light outside has left, but not all lost, because I can see different light flickering's mingled together to share if you will, their seasonal cheer decorated at the houses down my street.

Years have passed since the first time I truly became one with Christmas. I know now to watch the setting sun, nigh onto four o'clock make its winter debut adding its light show once more. But only until the leaves of Springtime shields out the sun's setting rays, will I be able to catch sunbeams dance off ice-cloaked branches making the trees again magical and, of course, experience my candle to shine like a star beacon again.

I will then be reminded again to stop and reflect and take note in the beautiful day’s moments given and, I will once more give thanks for these blessings.

Memories are caught moments in time kept in safe keeping and when lit upon they once more recall those lost times to be savoured thrice, if not more so. Moments become memories, and we have the time to make them ours. At this now moment you have finished reading my short story nd I would like to take the time to wish you a Merry Christmas and all the best in the New Year.

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