I was born in Maryland and spent my first thirty years living there, first in the Appalachian Mountains, then on the Eastern Shore, and later in suburban Washington. After a year in South Carolina, I moved to Georgia in 1977. I soon met another park ranger who worked in Florida. She was a wonderful woman who became my best friend. then my wife, and soon the mother of our three children. I spent over eleven years working in the historic city of Savannah, Georgia, and on the moss-draped sea islands nearby before moving to Atlanta.. In 2007, I retired from the National Park Service and a career dedicated to preserving and interpreting resources and themes in the cultural and natural history of the United States. It was a most rewarding experience. Today, I enjoy living in the rolling hills and woods of the Appalachian Piedmont east of Atlanta.
On this penultimate evening of the Twelve Days of Christmas it's cold and calm on Laurel Ridge. It's so clear the first stars shining blue white, yellow, and red feel close. I am reminded of other stars and other nights as this festival nears its close.
Lux Aurumque(Light and Gold)
Lux,
Calida gravisque pura velut aurum
Et canunt angeli molliter
modo natum.
Light,
warm and heavy as pure gold
and angels sing softly
to the new-born babe.
Sources
Photos and Illustration: Family files
Text: ericwhitacre.com, Lux Aurumque, lyrics by Edward Esch translated to Latin by Charles Anthony Silvestri
This Tenth Day of Christmas is another quiet day on the church calendar. To match that mood here is some profoundly simple and beautiful music written in 1894 by the American modernist composer, Charles Ives. He moved quickly from traditional composition to experimental music which sadly left him unrecognized during his lifetime. Years after his death he would emerge as one of the most influential composers of the 20th century.
Little star of Bethlehem!
Do we see Thee now?
Do we see Thee shining
O'er the tall trees?
Little child of Bethlehem!
Do we hear Thee in our hearts?
Hear the angels singing:
Peace on earth, good will to men!
Noel!
O'er the cradle of a King
Hear the Angels sing:
In Excelsis Gloria, Gloria!
From his Father's home on high,
Lo! for us He came to die;
Hear the Angels sing:
Venite adoremus Dominum
And in case you didn't meet a chimney sweep or kiss a pig on New Year's Day to ensure yourself a year of good fortune, perhaps these postcards from the Vienna Succession's Wiener Werkstatte will work.
And if two chimney sweeps, a pig and a pretty girl don't leave you with high hopes for the new year, this music from the genius of Igor Stravinsky should do it. The music is the finale from The Firebird, composed in 1910 for a ballet based on a Russian fairy tale about a mythical bird who helps a prince conquer evil. The Firebird is a brilliant work as fresh today today as the day it was composed. I like to think of it as a symbol of the promise of a fresh new year bringing an end to a rather anxious 2024. Enjoy.
Out of the remains of an old year a new year rises.
Sources
Photos and Illustrations: postcards, theviennasecession.com
With New Year's Day and the Eighth Day of Christmas behind us we move on the Ninth Day, a rather quiet time in Christmastide. In the Catholic tradition it is the Feast of Saints Basil the Great and Gregory Nazianzen, Bishops and Doctors of the Church. It is a day to celebrate the virtue of friendship. Christmastide does indeed focus us on the memories of family and friends. Over many years the happenings of this season become riveted in our memories as significant and unforgettable emotional events. In the quiet hours following Christmas Day and the coming of the new year, I sit conversing with the faces in the fire. My thoughts meander over those Christmases past, of friends one time near and dear now lost in time, of family and our traditions in America now reaching their thirteenth generation.
Although German traditions remain strong in our family one of my dearest memories is that of my Welsh bloodline introduced by my grandmother's parents who immigrated to the United States from Cardiff, Wales, in the early 1870's. Although I don't remember my grandmother - she died before my second birthday - my father always reminded me of her Celtic pride and Welsh ancestry expressed especially in a love for song and singing. It wasn't until the 20th century that Wales produced artists singing in English and known internationally. One of them was was the poet, Dylan Thomas, whose compelling recitations approached hypnosis where words became song.
My family likely became aware of Thomas through his trips to the U.S. made over a span of about four years beginning in 1950. His trips always made sensational news for he was not only a rising star worshiped in metropolitan and university salons but also a boisterous character prone to drunkenness and colorful language. Indeed, his trip in 1953 ended in death from pneumonia while in New York. One could say he covered the full spectrum of life and when he spoke of it in verse or prose he made music. I first heard a recording of Thomas reading his work in anelementary school English class sometime in the mid-1950's. I've read and listened to him since then. What follows has been a favorite Thomas story in my family for over sixty years. In that time I read it or portions of it to women I loved, to a few thousand students, and to my children.
When Dylan Thomas brings voice to his work it makes for some of the finest readings in the English language. When he reads A Child's Christmas in Walesit is magic. It is my gift to you in this holy season:
What an extraordinary reading.
To continue our theme of memory and love of friends and family here is the internationally known Welsh bass-baritone, Bryn Terfel, singing All Through the Night, an ancient lullaby from his homeland. Complete lyrics follow the video.
Sleep my child and peace attend thee, All through the night Guardian angels God will send thee, All through the night Soft the drowsy hours are creeping, Hill and dale in slumber sleeping I my loved ones' watch am keeping, All through the night
Angels watching, e'er around thee, All through the night Midnight slumber close surround thee, All through the night Soft the drowsy hours are creeping, Hill and dale in slumber sleeping I my loved ones' watch am keeping, All through the night
While the moon her watch is keeping All through the night While the weary world is sleeping All through the night O'er thy spirit gently stealing Visions of delight revealing Breathes a pure and holy feeling All through the night
Angels watching ever round thee All through the night In thy slumbers close surround thee All through the night They will of all fears disarm thee, No forebodings should alarm thee, They will let no peril harm thee All through the night.
Though I roam a minstrel lonely All through the night My true harp shall praise sing only All through the night Love's young dream, alas, is over Yet my strains of love shall hover Near the presence of my lover All through the night
Hark, a solemn bell is ringing Clear through the night Thou, my love, art heavenward winging Home through the night Earthly dust from off thee shaken Soul immortal shalt thou awaken With thy last dim journey taken Home through the night
Sources
Photos and Illustrations: themagpiesfantasy.blogspot.com; photo still from Marvin Lightner production of A Child's Christmas in Wales, 1963.
In much of Western Christianity this day is also celebrated either as the Solemnity of Mary or the Festival of the Circumcision and Name of Jesus. The Word for the day is simply one verse, Luke 2:21:
And at the end of eight days, when he was circumcised, he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.
Here are two music selections for the day. The first is Johann Sebastian Bach's cantata for New Year's Day, Jesu, nun sei gepreiset, [Jesus, now be praised.], BWV 41. Those who would enjoy an English translation will find one here.
The second selection is Levy-Dew, a Welsh carol for New Year's Day set to the music of the British composer, Benjamin Britten. The custom of Levy-Dew derives from an ancient tradition of drawing water from a well and sprinkling it on townspeople as a means of cleansing or preparing them to face the new year.
Llanllawer Holy Well and stream Pembrokeshire Richard Law
Here we bring new water from the well so clear
To worship God, with this happy New Year
Sing levy dew, sing levy dew, the water and the wine;
the seven bright gold wires and the bugles that do shine.
Sing reign of Fair Maid, with gold upon her toe,
Open you the West Door, and turn the Old Year go.
Sing levy dew, sing levy dew, etc.
Sing reign of Fair Maid, with gold upon her chin,
Open you the East Door, and let the New Year in.
Sing levy dew, sing levy dew, etc.
The postcard at the top of the page was sent to Charles, my great uncle, in 1907. The message on the back reads, "May the new year prove a bright, happy and prosperous one to you is the wish of your Brooklyn friend." Her name was Nellie. I know nothing about their friendship and although they are now both lost to history she certainly left us with a timeless message for the new year.
