[This both] the year's, and the day's deep midnight is

 John Donne's poem marking the old winter solstice comes to mind every year. St  Lucy's Day often coincides with a crisis, but around the time I started this post, it was announced that the one scheduled for today, over the EU/UK trade agreement talks, has been deferred. If it were not for the imminence of 1st January when the transition period definitely ends, I would have said that the talks seem likely to go on longer than a Frank Sinatra farewell tour.

On a happier note, Britannica tells us that St Lucy's Day is the traditional start of Christmas in many northern countries. It is a "festival of lights celebrated in Sweden, Norway, and the Swedish-speaking areas of Finland on December 13 in honour of St. Lucia. One of the earliest Christian martyrs, St. Lucia was killed by the Romans in AD 304 because of her religious beliefs. 

 "In Scandinavian countries each town elects its own St. Lucia. The festival begins with a procession led by the St. Lucia designee, who is followed by young girls dressed in white and wearing lighted wreaths on their heads and boys dressed in white pajama-like costume singing traditional songs. The festival marks the beginning of the Christmas season in Scandinavia, and it is meant to bring hope and light during the long winter days. Schools generally close around noon on the day of the festival so that families can prepare for the holiday. Families observe St. Lucia's Day in their homes by having one of their daughters (traditionally the eldest) dress in white and serve coffee and baked goods, such as saffron bread (lussekatter) and ginger biscuits, to the other members of the family. These traditional foods are also given to visitors during the day."

From today's World This Weekend, one learned that some bright spark on the Nobel committee had the idea of visiting the custom on those prize-winners who stayed over after the awards ceremony. Not all were overjoyed to be woken in their hotel rooms by blonde maidens bearing coffee and saffron buns, but it seems that literature laureate Dario Fo was delighted and even insisted on dancing with St Lucia's acolytes.

However, Donne's poem - clearly written before he forswore his philandering ways and turned to religion - is dedicated to lovers and looks forward to the renewal of love in the spring and summer. Things are bad now. Brexit will set us back, deal or no deal, and SARS/CoV2 no doubt has still a nasty surprise or two to temper our vaccine-driven optimism. But love will return, as it always does.