Thursday, December 25, 2014

Christmas Night

Upper Turkeyfoot on a colder, more traditional, Christmas.


"Always on Christmas night there was music. An uncle

 played the fiddle, a cousin sang "Cherry Ripe," and

another uncle sang "Drake's Drum." It was very warm in

the little house. Auntie Hannah, who had got on to the

parsnip wine, sang a song about Bleeding Hearts and

Death, and then another in which she said her heart

was like a Bird's Nest; and then everybody laughed

again; and then I went to bed. Looking through my

bedroom window, out into the moonlight and the

unending smoke-colored snow, I could see the lights in

the windows of all the other houses on our hill and hear

the music rising from them up the long, steady falling

night. I turned the gas down, I got into bed. I said some

words to the close and holy darkness, and then I slept."







—last lines in the Dylan Thomas classic,