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Sunday, December 21, 2008

Sacrifice for the Sun

The snow was like sugar.

There were no sounds except of the skis sliding across the granular snow and the labored breathing of the three of us. Nancy broke trail, and with each powerful kick, a cloud of snow shot out behind her, glistening in the moonlight.

It was the winter solstice, and Mike had pulled me out of the warmth and comfort of my house, just as I was settling in for the evening to watch TV, to go on this ski. Mike was always doing things like that; he seemed to have an obsession with preventing me from getting comfortable.

"Come on, you've got to come. We have to make a sacrifice," he said. "If we don't, the sun will keep moving south and will never return."

"Why can't we do it in the daytime?" I inquired, knowing that my question was futile.

"Because it's the longest NIGHT of the year, not day. It's a time to celebrate the night," he proclaimed as he gathered up my ski gear. "Hurry up. Nancy's waiting in the car."


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