Some things are evergreen. Like not knowing what day it is in this long stretch of pajama days between Christmas and New Year’s.
Like the way peppermint and chocolate mixed together = a particularly seasonal kind of flavor.
Like the feeling of sitting quietly reading with someone at both ends of the sofa.
Like the fact that we’re all aging, always. Until we’re not. (Do you feel it this year? The aging? I really do.)
Like our Advent wreath. Every Sunday evening in December (usually squeezed between Premier League matches), we read a simple interfaith Unitarian Universalist liturgy to light our candles. We talk about hope, peace, joy, and love, and the moments and people and places that show us what those things look like in real life.
And I love it more, quietly, every year.
Evergreen.