I used to be afraid of the dark, a fear that lingered well into my adulthood. During the Maine winter, the dark fills fourteen hours of the day. More darkness than light. In my early years here, it seemed unbearable.
We adapt.
This year, right around the winter solstice, I found myself starting my walks in the early morning before dawn. All alone. I loved the quiet of the early morning, the brilliance of the stars shining in the inky sky. Slowly the day would take over night. By the end of my walk, I would be greeted by the light of the new morning. Sometimes the sky was baby blue with pink clouds, sometimes it was just a light gray. But it was always brighter.
Being hopeful is walking through the darkness knowing that the light will greet you soon.
During these walks, our winter issue began to come together. This collection embraces hurt and healing. Loss and love. Then, now, and someday. There are fairy stories retold and true stories of transformation, all connected by the invincible human spirit.
And now, our winter issue.
I hope these poems, essays, and stories enchant you as much as they did me.
Teresa Berkowitz
Editor-in-Chief