The summer days and winter nights in London are longer than in Providence. My six years here is relatively short considering the years I spent in New England, so the length summer days and winter nights are still jarring. For some reason the rapidness of the change in daylight is, for me, most noticeable immediately following the equinoxes. In autumn, my heightened awareness of the quickly advancing wall of darkness is accompanied by the start of the new season of Strictly Come Dancing. I usually do not like these types of shows, but there is something about this one that buoys my spirits. From the incredibly talented orchestra, the wonderfully brilliant delivery of old-fashion wisecracks by presenter Bruce Forsyth, the clarity from judge Craig Revel Horwood on how to get a higher score, the appreciation of dance, the amazing costumes, to the friendly atmosphere amongst of the participants, I love almost everything about it. Maybe it recalls my former self… that part of me that still longs to leap out of my body and meld with a stream of music… and the camaraderie of being surrounded by souls striving for the same transcendence. But maybe my affection is largely due to the timing of the show. As the earth travels through the bleakest part of its orbit relative to the spot I happen to be sitting upon it, I find myself looking forward to the light, jovial nature of the show. Sometimes, when standing on a dark platform waiting a train to or from work, my mind conjures up the energy of the orchestra blasting the theme song with Brucey shuffling his 85-year old feet across the stage as a break from the ominous and increasing darkness, so much darker than the recollections of the winters of my youth.Photo Credit
Judges Craig Revel Horwood, Darcey Bussell, and Len Goodman (Bruno Tonioli out of view) with Bruce Forsyth: Mirror Online
