A Walker in the Suburbs

Even though I worked last Thursday and Friday, I did so at home, so tomorrow looms as the first real return day. In reflecting over the Christmas that was, I relive the lovely moments with family and friends, surely the highlight of this or any other holiday.

I also recall a day I’ll remember for its contentment, when I felt strangely happy. I say strangely because I was fighting a cold and still had a lot to do: all the cards to write, gifts to wrap and baking to do. But the tree was up and decorated and a marathon of biblical movies flickered on TV.

I addressed envelopes and curled ribbons to the soundtrack from “King of Kings” (I watched the film some too, but I listened more than looked). The majesty of that music seemed more fitting than any Christmas carol, and I went about my holiday tasks with a new sense of meaning and anticipation.

It was just a moment, but it was such a pleasant one that it seems to encapsulate all this holiday’s happy moments. Now I sit in front of that same tree, which must soon be taken down, and, well, I just wish I could do it all over again.

Even the numbers look futuristic, and our new year is nothing if not balanced. Is it my imagination or is there a hopefulness among these digits, a sense of vision clear and untrammeled?

It’s too soon to tell, of course, but I’ll enter the new year like I always try to: with more hope than trepidation. I’ll take some deep breaths before the messiness of daily living intrudes upon this blank slate.

And for today, before the newness wears off, I’ll do my usual Janus thing: look back at the past, craft resolutions for the future … and of course, eat plenty of black-eyed peas.

Tomorrow is the end not just of a year but a decade, so in case this warrants two posts instead of one, I’d better get busy.

First, 2019 wasn’t nearly long enough. It’s a trait this year shares with its recent predecessors and will, I fear, share with its successors, too. On the other hand, the year didn’t drag with direness so I can’t complain.

It’s a year that saw increasing dissension and partisanship, in our country and others, and I worry that 2020 will be worse in that regard.

Then there is the almost 70-degree high predicted for today and all that stands for in terms of climate change and environmental health.

As I look out my window at the bird feeder and the sparrows clustering around it, though, I see a balm for much of what ails us — our dear old Earth, which grows more precious by the hour.