Denali Hussin + Andy

On Monday, at 8, we walked out into the solstice night, and stood in the very center of the park just up the street from us. The sky was sprawled overhead, blown clear of clouds, and the foothills of the Hogback stretched out to the west. Where we stood, it was very dark, but all around the edges of the park houses shone with Christmas lights. The wind was up but we lit our little beeswax tapers and huddled together to block the wind. I kept my hand cupped around them, admiring their warmth and brightness and the smell of wax. The moon was halved and very bright. We thought the wind would take the flames quickly, but one candle burned on and on, even after we stopped cupping our hands around it. It faded to the smallest bluest light, and then sprang back, a cheerful blaze in the windy night.

When it had finally gone its way, thin smoke curling off, we looked up to the stars, to Orion’s belt, to the great conjunction happening somewhere above us, and we said, go well.

And then we walked home, into the light.