In a dark time, the very least we can do is opt for light
The other day I had a spare hour in my home town so I opted for the great hall in the heart of the Met, where I knew I could find light and memory.
What I sought was not religious as such, but the nearly universal reassurance of people being together, like the Neapolitan figurines who flock to the base of a tree every December.
There is light -- from Christmas trees past in our house, or the Menorah we take out, or family faces, past and present.
As my internal compass found the tree through the maze of hallways, I gave thanks for the little rectangular device in my pocket that allows me to take photographs for the first time in my life --a miracle.
The tree was there, as it has been every year since 1957 (read about it here.) Almost every year we make the pilgrimage, to be reassured. The light endures.
I'm leaving this photo up for a while. Happy Solstice. Happy Holidays.
has filed an interview with, of all people, me.
It's on his blog. (Just past photo of rat!) My thanks for his interest. GV
David Vecsey's sweet tale of distant love before the Web, now NYT Podcast, narrated by Griffin Dunne. Please see: