'And the darkness comprehendeth it not...'
Fear used to stalk me after sunset. Things change, though. And strike a light, spring is around the corner
Listen to the entire ‘audio essay’, complete with the songs and me reading the text below, by clicking here
https://www.mixcloud.com/tom-morton2/beatcrofting-in-the-darkbut-with-light-on-the-way/
The darkness comprehendeth it not…
James King and the Lonewolves — My Queen Has Lost Her Crown
I used to hate and fear the darkness, and as a wee boy would do almost anything to avoid it. My bedroom door had to be left open, or at least half-closed, with the hall light on, although I knew that at some point in the night mum or dad, probably dad would shut it. If I woke up in the curtained blackness of a winter night, I would panic.
So I would light a fire. I couldn’t get hold of candles, but I would build little lamps from paper and card, and steal matches from the downstairs fireplace. The sulphurous smell of ignition, the flicker and glow was a comfort. Until a suspiciously sniffing father burst in, beat out the tiny flame and gave me the worst parental hammering I ever received.
Lola in Slacks — Trocchi’s Canal
After that, they left the door open.
Until one day, the darkness stopped bothering me, and I couldn’t sleep with even a chink of light creeping in. An affection for flame and conflagration never went away, though. Fireworks, especially the now-illegal and very chuckable bangers. ‘Bengal Matches’. Lighting autumn bonfires in the garden with petrol (that glorious whoomf!). Attempts to manufacture explosives with my Merit chemistry set. And then later, Zippo petrol lighters, all the paraphernalia of smoking. Sometimes, an old girlfriend once said, a cigarette is your only friend. But for me, it was the initial flame, the lighting up.
Elvis Voe and His Fitful Head — Quite Possibly Drunk
Last week was the big Lerwick Up Helly Aa, Nesting (now to be called ‘Nestin & Girlsta’ I see) is tonight and our own local version in Northmavine is a week or so away. I’ve never been tempted to join a squad of guizers or parade with a flaming, paraffin soaked torch, but I do enjoy the spectacle. A few mild singes and stumbles notwithstanding, it’s usually a festival without injury or major incident. Though I always wonder about the Delting Up Helly Aa’s crackling and flaring parade past a petrol station. Risk assessments have presumably been done by the requisite vikings in charge.
The Countess of Fife — Goodbye Motorbike Guy
When I first came to live in Shetland, the first and second winters were…I was going to say an Illumination, but ‘revelation’ might be a better word. I loved the sociable drawing ‘in aboot da night’, the cosiness and companionship that the near-constant depths-of-December dark inculcated. And of course I enjoy lighting the Rayburn stove, the paraffin whiff of firelighters, the reek of coal and peat.
And there is no darkness as complete as rural winter Shetland, at night during a power cut. I used to find it comforting and deeply satisfying.
Ian Prowse — You Can’t Win ‘em All Mum
This winter has been different. While grateful for the flash and flame of the various Up Helly Aas, signifying as they do ‘the lightening of the year’, the coming of longer and longer, eventually near-endless days, I’ve struggled with absence of light. I should be used to endless wind, but conditions have been oppressive in a way that’s new to me. I came to Shetland and became a connoisseur of really bad weather, but somehow the promise of change - four seasons in one day, that ‘atween wadders’ thing - always made for constant variety. The glint and glimpse of a few hours out in the open; relief.
John Martyn — Save Some (For Me)
Recently, irregular, ferry and air services have made travel difficult and sometimes impossible for days on end. With all our children and grandchildren and other relations south the emotional struggle for regular contact gets worse and worse.
Richard and Linda Thomson — Shoot Out the Lights
And for the past two winters, there has been heavy, long-lasting snow. I have a primitive, childish, Narnia-love of precipitation, but long periods of treacherous roads, closed schools and businesses, more and longer power cuts has left me and parts of the community staggering and stumbling in frustration. It’s neither predictable nor constant enough to gear your whole season around, though winter tyres are now essential on all vehicles (hint: that hybrid SUV you bought new? It has city tyres on it). As I write even the big Toyota Hi-Lux with its brutally industrial four-wheel-drive system is not really on for the trip ‘o’er da heights’ to the pharmacy for my medication. Doubtless I will find a spare statin or two in the interim. I would eat some fruit but the local shop’s out of tangerines.
King Creosote — John Taylor’s Month Away
The Blue Nile — The Downtown Lights
There are plenty of blessings to count. Shetland is a special place. We have decent medical care and a council still able to provide good quality services, as well as protect and help the vulnerable. And it’s prepared to invest in the future, to the tune of tens of millions in new schools and ferries. There is reestit mutton, Voe bannocks, Stewarts Rum and good friends. And the Wine Society delivery finally made it.
The power is for the moment still on and the North Roe Up Helly Aa hop night got a late extension at this week’'s Licensing Board, thank goodness. But please, fill in the form properly next time.
Supernaturals — I Wasn’t Built To Get Up At This Time
The fire is lit. The Rayburn crouches, grumbles and occasionally roars like a black and reeking altar at the centre of this ancient house. Outside, there are brave snowdrops amid the snow. Spring is coming. Eventually. Even here. Especially here. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not. Or to quote the wonderful and sadly late Ronald Blythe:
“On Septugesima I preach on God making something out of nothing. There was a void and he filled it. There was darkness and he lit it.”
Where’s that Zippo?
The Human League — Darkness
The full ‘audio essay’ with all the above text and songs, can be heard on Mixcloud by clicking here
https://www.mixcloud.com/tom-morton2/beatcrofting-in-the-darkbut-with-light-on-the-way/
James King and the Lonewolves — My Queen Has Lost Her Crown
Lola in Slacks — Trocchi’s Canal
Elvis Voe and His Fitful Head — Quite Possibly Drunk
The Countess of Fife — Goodbye Motorbike Guy
Ian Prowse — You Can’t Win ‘em All Mum
John Martyn — Save Some (For Me)
Richard and Linda Thomson — Shoot Out the Lights
King Creosote — John Taylor’s Month Away
The Blue Nile — The Downtown Lights
Supernaturals — I Wasn’t Built To Get Up At This Time
The Human League — Darkness