A Conversation About Winters Darkness

The days are still shrinking. I know, they do it every year. That doesn’t mean I have to like it. Never have, never will. As the days get shorter, I get grumpier. I lean into the holidays that mark this time of year. In case you haven’t noticed, many religions have light attached to their winter festivities. From the pagans forward through history, there has been a universal response to the natural darkness. It consists of evoking the return of light by any means.  This may be the only time we all agree on something… we need more light. When I think about the days shriveling up to little splinters of illumination, I remind myself that right around “the holidays” the days will inexorably begin to lengthen. And my attitude will brighten. In a way, we’re a whole lot more like plants than we think. Actually, probably every living creature responds to day length. Birds and animals actually change color. Gold finches turn drab for the winter, ermines and snowshoe rabbits turn white. Gardeners tend not to be as aware of the wildlife responses to day length as they are aware of the activities of plants. 

Any gardener worth her salt knows of the challenge involved in persuading a Poinsettia to “bloom” for Christmas. The mechanics of manipulating light are daunting. Not only do the plants require a certain preordained number of hours of light, they must also undergo specific numbers of hours of full dark. And a specific range in number of days.                   

We humans have learned to use light to force earlier production of crops. Most of us who grow veggies have used some type of light control to hasten the natural process. It may just be a window sill or it may be an array of fluorescent shop lights with specially adapted “grow light” bulbs. Houseplant enthusiasts often have arrays of lights to keep their African Violets or Begonias in flower. I don’t see it as often as I used to, but windows stuffed with Geraniums were once a common sight  when those with the correct direction of exposure  could haul the plants indoors for the winter and still harvest every scrap of natural light to carry the flowers over into another spring. And even then, once the days expand, many plants retain a sensitivity to day length. Development of crops,  like tomatoes, need certain numbers of days at the correct length. Ornamentals can “dance” because of a thing called phototropism… sunflowers pivot through the day to follow the sun and portulacas open and close according to brightness of sunlight.                                                                                                                      

They say there’s nothing new under the sun, and it’s true. But we should perhaps remember that there is a purpose to the darkness. Everything and everybody needs a rest. Humans have used their vast creativity to conquer the darkness, with artificial light and handy dandy timers, but maybe we’re making a mistake we’ve often made in the past. Too often we have approached “nature” as something to be tamed and bent to our will, to our regret.  Instead of lighting up our property with so-called security lights, maybe judicious use of artificial light is more appropriate. Maybe it’s not the worst thing to tone down the lighting to just the Christmas tree and/or a fireplace for a while. Attune yourself to a slower pace, like nature is forcing on the plants and animals. Rejuvenate and avoid the manmade bustle. It just ain’t natural. My friend Luke Vitagliano touches on attuning oneself to the natural world in episode 63 of “Nature Calls, Conversations from the Hudson Valley”. He describes the benefits of relaxing into nature, whatever the day length. Listen in at https://ccecolumbiagreene.org/gardening/nature-calls-conversations-from-the-hudson-valley/episode-63-nature-and-mental-health.