There is a crisp wind blowing from the mountain tops of the north country. The chill in the air reminds us that we live north of the forty fifth and that snow threatens to fall. Occasionally on a winter evening you can look out and see twinkling stars clear off in the distance. It is said that a long time ago one of these shining objects called to a small group of traveling wise men. We're coming close to that time when the night out weighs the day, when the dark crosses fields of snow and shadows fool our perceptions. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of years ago a small sleigh, according to legend, was lost in the snow surrounded by those shadows. The couple in that sleigh froze there in that night and were chosen for a task larger than themselves. He the deliverer and she his wife. Yin and Yang of the north, Santa and Mrs. Claus. The two icons of the season that herald in the song of joy for all of us kids. So it begins the celebration of the birth of Christ, not quite at the right time of the year, but a celebration of his birth non the less. Stolen from the Pagan holiday that celebrates this the longest night that brings in the light, Christs Mass sings on high. So, let's prepare to burn the yule and set ablaze the log. Light a tree in hopes they'll share some special time with you and me. Santa and Mrs. Claus have traveled far in our hearts. To my wife Romona who has brought me the hope of the season I say, I love you. And to all a good year.