When you light a candle, you also cast a shadow.
~ Ursula K. Le Guin

The past two Sundays have provided interesting sources of reflection for the walk in Advent. December 6, Advent 1, was shrouded in fog as people headed out to church. Yesterday, Advent 2, provided us with our first snow storm of the season. Driving to church in the pre-dawn hours, I was peppered by fine, feathery snowflakes that made the drive doable if speed was not a goal. By the time most people were arriving for worship, the storm had settled on us in earnest. Looking out the windows, it looked like we were being held within an enormous snow globe. Shake! Shake! Shake! Visibility……very narrow.

While I am completely aware of the dangers of both kinds of driving conditions, I have to say the ways in which they both contributed to the experience of Advent was very satisfying. Waiting? Check. Anticipation? Check. Reflection? Check. Slowly down? Check. Both fog and snow contributed to what is needed for a true Advent practice. (I am smiling right now.)

Yesterday nearly everything in the afternoon was cancelled. Those that still soldiered on happened later than advertised and offered grace to those who arrived late. How perfectly Adventy! Instead, today people I have spoken with told me about all the ways in which they stopped what they had planned, made alternative plans or no plans at all, simply sat in the comfort of their homes and watched nature’s wonderland form before their eyes.

As I drove to church in the falling snow on Advent 2, I listened to one of my Sunday morning rituals: Naturalist Jim Gilbert giving the news of what is going on in the world of weather, sky, earth. Keeping my eyes firmly ahead of me, hands clenching the steering wheel, I heard him say that in December our shadows are longer than at any other time of the year. The December light does that to these dark days. I remembered how tall I had seemed to myself on a recent walk, my shadow making me appear much more statuesque…..and thinner…..than I actually am. In that moment I loved the December light for this illusion.

Fog. Snow. Shadow. These three kings of light and dark are doing their part to lure us into being, really being, in Advent. They are trying with all their might to keep us from the baubles and glitz that want to make us jump too quickly to Christmas. When something, or someone, is waiting to be born the time of not-yet-knowing adds to the excitement and celebration once the day arrives. When a gift that has been longed for sits unopened, anticipation fuels the joy that can grasp our heart.

If you are out traveling about the snowy, icy streets today, be safe. Go slow. Breathe. Notice the shadows. How tall you seem. Advent is emerging in its own, sweet, metered time.

And aren’t we blessed?