I noticed rather suddenly today that the date is December 20th, and this seemed immensely significant because it should he the heart of the holiday season, almost Christmas. But it's not. It's just another day. It's just another month. Santa Claus is not coming to town. Jesus is not about to be born in a manger. And Frosty the Snowman is certainly keeping his distance for his very life's sake. There is no Christmas tree in the house, no wax figures, no snow globes, no mistletoe, no wreath on the door, no date nut cakes or candy canes or toy trains or carolers. This is not December 20th! What can these people be thinking?
So I've come out to the Starbucks, where there are Christmas decorations, seasonal coffees, a chattering crowd (because of the 2 for 1 deal today), and there is a large fake Christmas tree in the mall, and Christmas tunes playing both inside Starbucks and out in the mall. Now that's more like it! Sort of.
Still, it's nothing like Peacock Lane, is it? All the lights lining the street, the cars crawling along, carols drifting along in the dark, a light snow falling, the clopping of the horses' hoofs as they pull their carriage and its passengers from Belmont to Stark and back again.
There is another horse-drawn carriage downtown that travels from Pioneer square down to Old Town and back again. I remember riding in that carriage with my girlfriend after watching the tree lighting in the square. It was cold, terrifically cold, and we, snuggled together, were wonderfully warm. The icy flakes that touched our cheeks melted with our kisses, each of us wrapped in the other's coat, woolen scarves entwined as well. This was Christmas.
Ah well, Christmas is for children, as they say; as is love, snow, music, romance.
Still, there's no harm in remembering.
So I've come out to the Starbucks, where there are Christmas decorations, seasonal coffees, a chattering crowd (because of the 2 for 1 deal today), and there is a large fake Christmas tree in the mall, and Christmas tunes playing both inside Starbucks and out in the mall. Now that's more like it! Sort of.
Still, it's nothing like Peacock Lane, is it? All the lights lining the street, the cars crawling along, carols drifting along in the dark, a light snow falling, the clopping of the horses' hoofs as they pull their carriage and its passengers from Belmont to Stark and back again.
There is another horse-drawn carriage downtown that travels from Pioneer square down to Old Town and back again. I remember riding in that carriage with my girlfriend after watching the tree lighting in the square. It was cold, terrifically cold, and we, snuggled together, were wonderfully warm. The icy flakes that touched our cheeks melted with our kisses, each of us wrapped in the other's coat, woolen scarves entwined as well. This was Christmas.
Ah well, Christmas is for children, as they say; as is love, snow, music, romance.
Still, there's no harm in remembering.
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