Well, having spent the last couple of months off work (and in blogging silence) with a broken leg, I now know a lot more about the Danish health care system (which is excellent, and with particularly good hospital food). My cast came off on Midwinter’s Day – the Northern Hemisphere’s shortest day of the year – just before Christmas, and so I feel that there is something more meaningful about the days growing longer than I have done in the past.
Whether recovering from a broken leg, or seeing, feeling and sensing the days lengthening, there differences are imperceptible at first. Indeed, the days immediately afterwards somehow seem to be especially dark and bleak (and painful) even when you know that things are heading the right way. Slowly-but-surely, however, movement becomes easier and change more apparent; walking about on crutches becomes possible – slow at first, and then more comfortable. I have been telling everyone that having my cast taken off was the best Christmas present ever, and certainly worthy of celebration. And there is something enduring in that sentiment – at least in high latitudes – which has nothing to do with Christmas, and nothing to do with broken legs.
Things are still not easy in early January, but the days are getting longer. My broken leg has given me a different (and distinctly literal) perspective this year, but I am consciously reflecting on how numerous people, over countless generations, over many millennia must have experienced as part of an everyday experience of living through the winter months…. responding to recent short days through reflecting on previous stories, and making plans for longer and warmer days to come. I back on my bike again this week, and I know that I will soon be hearing woodpeckers in the forest as I cycle to work at first light. And from previous remembrances, I know that I will soon see the sun rise at exactly that spot, over the island of Samsø, as I reach the point where there’s a break in the trees.