How strange it is to start a new year in the middle of Winter. When, above ground, the bare trees stand still against a monochrome sky; when below ground, their roots dig deeper into the solace of darkness. Only the stars are bright now--Orion chases the Pleiades from horizon to horizon, and the Quatrantid Meteors burst in sudden streaks of phospherescent fire. The sparkling night is inviting us to lie dormant and wait for what springs forth when it is the Earth's turn to shine again. Until then, maybe there will be a blanket of snow to burrow beneath.  Or, maybe there will be Halcyon Days--with an orange mountain flaring against an aquamarine sky, and a wall in the low sun to lean upon while the hawk hunts on a silver breeze.  There is nothing to be done today, except watch for the light to return.