Twinkle, twinkle

Our sermon this morning was about keeping Christmas; about the fact that, though there are 12 days of Christmas, we've mostly packed it all up by the end of Christmas day, and the tree is often down before Epiphany arrives.

Why is that, our preacher pondered: are we afraid of that promise of hope? Are we afraid of the responsibility?

I don't presume to have answers, but then -- our tree is still up, though the boy scouts were out collecting them yesterday. And our Christmas lights -- well, as you can see from this first photo, taken last August, we may turn them off but we never take them down.

I can't claim any noble reason for that, only that I like them -- like the little bit of sparkle they provide, the promise of snow, the promise of light...

So it could just be laziness, or reluctance to risk more climbs up and down a rickety ladder. But maybe it's more than that: a deep-seated desire to keep the hope of Christmas alive, to allow the magic and promise to continue framing our days and views.

Whatever the reason, for now the lights are still on. And the sunrise seems even lovelier this morning, viewed through these twinkling stars.