In my mind, if any ethereal spirits are roaming the world, it would be on the night of the Winter Solstice, one of the most ancient and important holidays in the history of humans. It is a night of darkness, rain, mist and fog, sometimes impenetrable. Fog is about the only kind of weather that I see spooks the animals, they do not like not being able to see well off in the distance, and even the piercing eyes of the donkeys couldn’t cut through this fog, it was beautiful and eerie at the same time.

I closed my eyes and imagined the mists rising off of the farmer’s fields were spirits, ancient souls rising to mark the advent of winter and to soften the dark and cold by beginning to lengthen each day, beginning tomorrow. It helps us to imagine Spring, even as we are still getting ready for winter. The spirits were soft, restless, busy. I think the animals can hear them and see them, I cannot really.