Rainy days were sparse last summer, but there was one particular Sunday afternoon that was notably dark and dreary. As we all sat down for lunch the lights over the tables were customarily off, however, the increased darkness from the rain and cloud cover made it difficult to see what we were eating, and more importantly, each other. Franny walked around to each table to remind us, it was ok to have the lights on while we eat and we can turn them down low when it’s time to sing our Sunday songs.
Light plays such a pivotal role in many of our Brown Ledge traditions. We turn off the lights when taps is played. We turn on the lights when we transition from our quiet to upbeat songs at Sunday lunch. Operating the light wheel is a rite of passage for aspiring Brown Ledge Theater greats, and who doesn’t get chills when the lights go out ahead of a Vanguard announcement? And, of course, sending lit candles and wishes into the lake is the last thing we do each summer.
Light represents our moods, it symbolizes change, it shows the way. It is so much a part of what we do that often we don’t recognize it’s there until it isn’t.
For my family the winter holiday season is a celebration of light. Here in the Northern Hemisphere light is very much fleeting this time of year. Its hourly presence can be counted on one hand. We pierce the ensuing darkness with twinkling LEDs, warming fire, and flickering candles. This week my eldest step-daughter Aiya gingerly held each of her toddler sisters’ hands as they helped her to light the Menorah. Our porch is adorned with white lights, and colorful bulbs circle the spruce tree positioned in the living room. This weekend we will purposely dim all of the lights to welcome the winter solstice and have our dinner by candlelight. We intentionally acknowledge the longest night of the year while holding the hope and promise that the lengthening days to follow will bring.
And we pass and share this light with you. We hope you feel the same joy this holiday season that we do. We are filled with heartfelt gratitude to be part of the Brown Ledge community.
Brooks Johnson
