The shortest day of the year, today, earlier, seemed like it to me, the daylight angling through the water straight down, then twisted around, then mirrored, then shooting out in sheets, as usual, but not quite enough of it, it felt.
Not enough light.
I prefer to haunt the Southern Hemisphere this time of year, to enjoy their opposite seasons, but I find myself here in the Northern one for awhile, yearning for the Sun.
Some things have occurred lately to remind me of the ever present, ongoingness of time, and of continuous change. I've lost someone dear to me. And in the losing, I've been immersed in memories of the past, of a past that, although Mers do not age nearly as much as do land beings, like humans, cannot be repeated.
We, too, are finite organisms.
Unlike humans, we Mers accept the way Nature made us, and do not, nor would we, have scientists whose aim is to find ways either to extend life or to disguise age.
Individuals are all so very unique - and so very irreplaceable, and unforgettable.
I find, as do so many souls in this time of year, when holidays loom and joviality mingles with regret and when we so richly mourn the ones who used to spend them with us, and now cannot, that this otherwise joyous time is rather melancholy.
So much more so now, though, since one I had loved has left this plane.
Spirituality extends throughout the animal kingdom - oh, yes, it is by no means only humans who are spiritual - all beings, great and small, have thoughts and feelings of God - and only the Presence can assuage such sadness.
Send some love to everyone around you, strangers included, since sorrow is perhaps more a sign of this season than is joy, for most...
