The Burning of the Cold

We fear the long night. We build fires to push back the edges of the dark, to convince ourselves that the frost is not permanent. There is a hunger in the flame, a desperate need to consume the stillness of winter. We gather in the heat, our faces flushed, our shadows dancing against the walls of the world. It is a temporary truce with the season. We believe that if we burn enough, if we make enough noise, the earth will finally soften. But the cold has a long memory. It waits behind the light, patient and vast, watching us circle the embers. We are only ever borrowing this warmth. We are only ever waiting for the thaw that may not come as quickly as we hope. What remains when the fire dies down and the ash settles into the frozen ground?

Thomas Solet has captured this tension in his image titled Fasnet – City Afire Awaiting Spring. The flames reach out, yet the winter remains just beyond the glow. Does the fire bring the spring, or does it only make the darkness feel colder?