Ash Wednesday

THE HEMLOCKS SPEAK TO ME LIKE NO OTHER TREE.  SO DELICATE, SO REFINED, SO GRACEFUL AND STRAIGHT.  ALL I NEED IS THIS, AND I'M CONTENTED: A BIG STAND OF HEMLOCKS, WITH THE AFTERNOON SUN FILTERING THROUGH THEIR LACEY BRANCHES, A BOTTLE OF WATER, A STICK, AND A BLANKET OF SNOW ON THE GROUND.  

          Even now in late winter, the light is growing, coming earlier and disappearing later.  It’s a season of increasing light.  Ash Wednesday usually entails ashes, which are meant to remind people that they’re going to die someday.  In a way, you could say that the ashes are an attempt to scare people into leading more penitent lives.  “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  Yes, we are dust.  We’re all made up of carbon and water.  But it’s not just any old dust.  It’s the dust of the heavens—the dust of the “Big Bang,” the very dust of the stars.  Remember that you are stardust.  Light is your source, and to the light you will return.