So at sunrise and sundown I'm eager to see what these winter days may bring.
All night, I follow her course through the sky from her rising in the North in a dark sky to her peering down into a skylight window, to the east high amongst snow clouds at midnight, then when the skylight is laden with snow-drops, sinking to the west before dawn.
The moon is dispassionate and serenely beautiful. Her grandeur has us full of wonder as we follow her progress . She is one of the glories of this grim year, she and a winter sunrise. However unwelcome the news we can look to the horizon, to the skies and consider that this too will pass. And that the beauty of sunrise and moonlight will help sustain us.
Read the diary of the Reverend Francis Kilvert and you sense what it was like for a curate to walk beneath the moon between parishes. And for Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy making their way home after dark in winter. Perhaps, this year, we reconnect to the natural world as lockdowns limit our horizons.