Caithness light is special as we count down to Christmas
Northern Drift by Monique Sliedrecht
I spent some of last month in the south of France. There is a very good reason why so many artists have been drawn to this part of the world – the light has a unique quality that enhances the paint palette and remains a constant source of inspiration.
I enjoyed the summer-like days in Provence’s autumn and recorded impressions in my sketchbook.
Caithness has a different kind of light, which is also rare and often delights and captivates those who visit. Especially at this time of year, when days are short and the sun seems to hover between sunrise and sunset, a low glow broods over the open land and seascapes.
The scarcity of this beauty creates a yearning, as the days grow shorter.
It is the season of Advent, the lead up to Christmas. The word advent is the beginning of “adventure”, which suggests an undertaking that might involve danger and unknown risk, and it points to an exciting or remarkable experience.
Dr Seuss speaks to the latter with a positive spin in his book, Oh the Places You’ll Go.
“Congratulations! / Today is your day. / You’re off to Great Places! / You’re off and away!”
Who wouldn’t want to embark on an adventure with a send-off like that? He goes on to say:
“Out there, things can happen, and frequently do, / To people as brainy and footsy as you. / And when things start to happen, don’t worry, don’t stew. / Just go right along, you’ll start happening too!”
It makes experience… no, opportunity…. a very attractive enterprise, one to be embraced for the way it might stretch us and help us grow way beyond our comfort zone.
Many churches take part in a weekly lighting of candles, striking a match every Sunday until all five flames flicker brightly on the advent wreath – symbolising fresh life, promise and hope on Christmas Day.
In the early Christian tradition, this became a time of anticipation, waiting for the birth of a baby that would redeem the world. Other religions proclaim light too in the festivals of Hanukkah in Judaism and Diwali in Hinduism.
There is no doubt that our world needs redeeming and new light. Along with the serious limit to our natural vitamin D source in northern Scotland, days are dark in a global sense, with ever increasing wars, climate disaster, and mental illness.
Sometimes it is hard to know what our next steps should be, or how we might stay sane in the midst of a steady feed of doom and gloom. It is a season of deepening darkness and disappearing daylight.
Following through with the words of Dr Seuss:
“You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. / Some windows are lighted, but mostly they’re darked. / A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin! / Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in? / How much can you lose? How much can you win?”
Sometimes the next step can only be seen via a tiny flame. Other moments the large beam of a lighthouse will guide us through torrential seas. What lights your path? Who or what is your ‘lighthouse’ in times of uncertainty?
In this Advent season, stars sparkle against the blackness, fires burn brightly in the hearths, soups and tea bring comfort and warmth, and the moon, when in full glory, sheds clarity on the path.
The proverbial phrase “to live in hope” may be over-used, but surely this is the best way forward for all of us. Advent, whatever the state of the world, is a time of expectation, of adventure, of new opportunities, of light rising in the darkness, of a mysterious star appearing in the heavens.
• Monique Sliedrecht is an artist and blogger based at Freswick. Visit her blog at www.moniquesliedrecht.com
