December 19, 2025 • 40 mins
The winter solstice is a threshold — the longest night of the year, holding both stillness and promise. In this special 50th episode of Tree Speech, we linger in that in-between space where darkness is not something to fear, but a place of listening, wonder, and quiet presence.
We begin in the solstice hush, where forests shimmer with unseen life and ancient stories gather close. From there, we travel to Iceland through myth, landscape, and lived experience, speaking with author Nancy Marie Brown about her book Looking for the Hidden Folk: How Iceland’s Elves Can Save the Earth. Together, we explore what it means to treat land as alive and attentive — and how belief in the hidden folk is less about superstition than about perception, reverence, and care.
This is an episode about paying attention, honoring mystery, and remembering that even in darkness, the world is alive — and the light is already on its way back.
Happy Solstice! May your candles burn bright, your windows glow with welcome, and the unseen feel close.
This week’s episode was written and recorded in New York on the land of the Lenapee tribes. This week’s episode was recorded in Massachusetts on the native lands of the Wabanaki Confederacy, Pennacook, Massa-adchu-es-et (Massachusett), and Pawtucket people
This episode was written, edited, and produced by Jonathan Zautner and Dori Robinson.
To learn more about our podcast and episodes, please visit treespeechpodcast.com and consider supporting us through our Patreon - every contribution supports our production, and we’ll be giving gifts of gratitude to patrons of all levels. Please also consider passing the word, and rate and review us wherever you listen to podcasts. Every kind word helps.
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:07):
The winter solstice is a quiet turning, a moment when the world
seems to hold its breath. It's the longest night of the
year, and yet hidden within it is the promise of returning
light. For centuries people have
understood this threshold not assomething to fear, but as a
place of wonder and reassurance.Stories gather here.
(00:30):
Forests shimmer with unseen life.
Presences move softly at the edges of our vision, reminding
us that even in stillness the world is awake.
These are the moments that invite us to listen more closely
and to find comfort and mystery.In Iceland, the hidden folk,
(00:50):
being said to live among stones,roots and Moss covered hills are
keepers of these. In between places they offer a
way of seeing the natural world as alive, attentive and quietly
enchanted. My name is Dory Robinson and
(01:12):
this is tree speech. In this solstice episode, we
explore the beauty of in betweenmyths, between light and dark,
myth and landscape, the human world and the more than human
one. We will speak with author Nancy
Marie Brown about her book Looking for the Hidden Folk and
(01:32):
how Iceland's long relationship with elves reveals a deeper
truth. That mystery is not emptiness,
but presence that may save the earth.
Through winter woods, candlelight, and poetry, we'll
reflect on what is still growing, glowing, and guiding us
beneath the surface during the darkest days of the year.
(01:57):
From elves to evergreens, we hope this episode offers a sense
of warmth, wonder, and companionship right here and the
quiet mystery of winter. Winter Solstice by David Gate
The darkest day is no reason to be afraid.
(02:19):
We can let the moon have her moment and welcome silence under
the cover of Starlight. Tonight, I light the candles
earlier than any other night. There are lessons in the dark,
and a deeper hope to discover than merely the promise of
brighter days. Happy Winter Solstice.
(02:50):
I'm Jonathan Zoutner. Long before elves appeared on
mantels and in holiday books, they walked among us not in
body, but in the land itself. In Norse and Celtic traditions,
the hidden folk were liminal beings, neither gods nor humans,
(03:11):
but spirits bound to place. They lived in Groves, beneath
ancient trees, inside stones, and within burial mounds.
They shaped how people listened to the world.
Which forests were left standing?
Which streams were approached with reverence, which corners of
the land demanded silence? As Christianity and modernity
(03:36):
reshaped the world, these spirits were slowly diminished,
folded into folklore, softened into fairy tales, and eventually
transformed into charming, controllable figures.
Yet even today, they whisper through our stories.
The modern Elf on the Shelf is not just a toy.
(03:58):
It is a distant echo of an oldertruth that the world is alive,
watchful, and responsive to human behavior.
To explore what remains of that connection and what the Hidden
Folk might still ask of us, I'm joined by Nancy Marie Brown,
(04:19):
author of Looking for the HiddenFolk.
How Iceland's Elves Can Save theEarth.
Nancy has written 9 books, 8 of them on Iceland and the Viking
Age. She moves between extremes,
medieval literature and modern archaeology, myths and facts,
the visible and the hidden. Her books have been reviewed in
(04:43):
The New Yorker, The New York Times, The Economist, and the
Times Literary Supplement, to name a few, and she lives on a
farm in Vermont with a small herd of Icelandic horses and an
Icelandic sheepdog. I loved our conversation and
can't wait to share her wise, humorous and thoughtful words.
(05:04):
Let's listen well. Hello, Nancy.
Thank you so much for joining uson Tree Speech today.
Thank you for inviting me, Jonathan.
Your book Looking for the HiddenFolk, which I just loved.
I loved every story, every chapter, every anecdote.
(05:25):
I I thought it was just so wonderful and so magical and
enchanting. And the book invites us to
listen for what might be whispering just beyond our
ordinary senses as we approach the darkest night of the year,
the winter solstice. I wonder what 1st called you to
(05:47):
listen for the stories of Iceland's elves and hidden folk?
I think just the experience of being in Iceland itself.
I've gone maybe 30-5 Times Now. The first time was in mid 1980s
and I remember walking through alava field.
(06:11):
It's a it's a great open space and, and there's just you and
the sky and these amazing black rocks that are all strange
shapes and they seem like they are moving.
They seem like they are in spirited.
(06:32):
So as we're walking across this little tiny path, I mean, it's a
path that you can almost not see.
It was made by sheep and so sometimes it just disappears
into the blackness of the rock and you have to stand there and
think about it. But as I'm walking along here
and there's there's nothing protecting me between the rock
(06:55):
and the sky and I feel things behind me and I'm thinking, OK,
something is coming up behind me.
I turn around, of course there'snothing there.
It could easily have been a fox.It could easily have been an
eagle. There's lots of birds that live
in these lava fields. This was in the summer.
You know, I shouldn't have felt threatened, but there was
(07:17):
something watching me. And it's, it's a feeling that I
feel every time that I go back on this particular path, which
I, I try to visit as often as I can.
And I'm accepting of it now. Back then I was a little bit
afraid. But now I'm saying I'm here
again. Is it OK if I come visit?
(07:40):
And whatever it is in the lava field has now accepted me and
makes me comfortable. And I have certain rocks, or at
least a rock Cairn, which is wasput up long ago by shepherds so
they could find the path that I go and visit and I talk to and I
sit there and I have a cup of tea and I say I'm back.
(08:00):
Is it OK that I come to visit? So it's this sort of sense that
there is something in the place,there is something in the rock,
there is something beyond what Ican see and hear that I just
feel when I'm at that place. And my Icelandic friends who who
(08:21):
never used to talk about this until I wrote this book, and now
they talk about it all the time,they say you are sensing elves.
And in the past, they would never admit to feeling or seeing
elves themselves because I'm an American and I wouldn't
understand. But now that I have made it
clear to them that I feel this too, they say, oh, yeah, that's
(08:41):
what we feel. That's what we feel when we're
out in nature. You write about how stories
shape what we believe to be realand and as you just mentioned, I
think they also give us power toexpress what we believe to be
(09:01):
real. Since you first started going to
Iceland then and have made the trip many times, how have these
Icelandic tails reshaped the world you see around you in the
stones that you mentioned in trees or the spaces between the
edges that you write about in inyour book?
Well, I think the most importantexperience for me was the very
(09:25):
first time I went to Iceland. And actually I was, I was
searching for a story. I was a graduate student at Penn
State University. I was studying medieval
literature, and I was just falling in love with the
Icelandic sagas. These are a collection of 40 or
100, depending on how many you you want to include into the
(09:46):
genre of Tales of ordinary people living in Iceland during
the Middle Ages. And there was one in particular,
a man named Snorri, who was a bit of a trickster, a bit of a
con man, a bit of a, you know, crazy guy, not your Viking hero.
He was the smart one, not the the strong one.
(10:09):
But his saga just really appealed to me.
And I wanted to see the farm where he had lived.
So I walked down from the town about 3 miles away carrying my
backpack. And I go up to the farmhouse
door and I say in essentially old Norse Sonora, go, they lived
here. And the farmer looks at me like
(10:31):
I'm insane. This is the 1980s.
And he says, yes, 1000 years ago.
And he brought his son out of the cow barn.
And they invited me inside. They served me coffee.
They called up the the local English teacher to come and talk
to me and my husband because we were not making sense in Old
Norse. And they started telling me
(10:52):
stories. And one of the stories was of
the hill behind the farm, which was called the Holy Mountain.
And the story that the farmer told me then was one of the ones
from the sagas that was written down in about 1200.
It's about a person who lived there in 870.
(11:12):
And it was how the whole north side of the hill opened up like
doors. And the shepherd could see the
God Thor inside, holding a feastand welcoming new visitors into
the feast. And among the new visitors was
the farmer from that farm who they learned later that day had
(11:33):
drowned when he was out fishing.So this is a story being told to
me about a place about a settlerfrom the eight 70s or the eight
90s being told to me by a dairy farmer who lived there in the
1980s. And I was just absolutely blown
away. These people have this sense of
(11:55):
story of place that they know why this place is holy and they
feel it's holiness. And so now every time I go to
Iceland, I have to climb to the top of this hill and sit there
and feel the holiness and, and look out at the surrounding
scenery and think about what does it mean if the God Thor is
(12:19):
living in this hill? And what does it mean if people
go into this hill to live the afterlife.
Now, of course, this holy mountain was taken over by a
Christian monastery in the Middle Ages.
And so it has an additional layer of holiness on it.
There is a a were ruin on the top of the hill that might have
been where the monks went to meditate.
(12:39):
So there's, you know, there's generations of different kinds
of spiritual feeling attached tothis hill.
But it's just a hill. It's it's really not big or
exotic or strange. It's a hill on a farm.
And yet it has this presence. It has this importance because
(13:01):
of the story. It's profound and and probably
hard to explain. In your book you also write
about how certain construction projects and certain places were
either changed or or moved or the the deadlines changed or
certain things had to happen before that they could occur
(13:21):
because of the presence of elvesliving within the areas or the
perceived presence. I wonder then if we could go a
little bit further. What do you think it means in
our modern world to live as if the land is inhabited or or even
sacred? Well, it's funny that you
brought that up because just this week there was another ELF
(13:46):
construction story out of Iceland that I shared on my
Facebook page. There was a wonderful little
video from the Icelandic Rd. administration.
They are building a bridge across the river in the South of
Iceland. And one of the bridge abutments
will be on an island in the middle of the river.
(14:07):
And this island actually has trees.
It's one of the places in Iceland that really does have a
little Birch forest. And many of these trees had been
planted and they were, they wereloved, beloved by the local
people. So as the road construction crew
is starting to build on this island, an old man who came from
(14:32):
one of the farms on either side of the river has himself ferried
over. And he says you have to be
concerned about the ghost who lives on this island.
And you must make sure that he is happy with where you are
putting your bridge abutment or the bridge will fall down.
Now, as you said, the, the road administration, the road crews
(14:56):
in Iceland get this periodicallyand they know what to do.
Now they call in a seer, a womanwho can speak with the unseen
people, the hidden folk. And she said, well, actually
it's not a ghost. It's not a ghost of a human.
It is a colony of elves. And that's, that's also a common
(15:18):
feature. And they are willing to let the
bridge construction go through because they understand this is
an important Rd. connecting, youknow, villages and there had
been a bridge there that had been washed out, so it needed to
be replaced. They, they understand that they
will cooperate, but you have to move the trees.
(15:39):
You have to preserve as many of the trees as you can and find
new places for them to live. So there's this video of the
road construction crew digging up each of these birches with a
huge root ball, putting them in the the Bay of a dump truck,
taking them over to one of the, you know, other banks of the
(16:00):
river and replanting them and completely straight faced.
The man from the road construction authority who was
being interviewed by the film makers says there's a lot of
things out in the world that we can't see, but we can cooperate
with them and we can live with nature.
(16:21):
We can do our best, you know, and, and he just says, you know,
there's, there's not a big deal.It's if this tree is important
to somebody, we can move it. You know, if this tree is
important to an elf or to a person, it doesn't make any
difference. We can cooperate with nature.
So there's there's sort of this sense in Iceland that we do what
(16:43):
we can, we go as far as we can to treat the earth as if it
matters and we all feel better for it and.
That's such a beautiful story. I wonder, then, do you think
that believing in the hidden folk is less about superstition
and more about ways of paying attention of of honoring what we
(17:05):
can't fully explain or, or or would never be able to?
I think that's exactly the point, because the word elf is
one of these very changeable words.
It means different things at different times in Icelandic
history and Icelandic literature.
Sometimes the word elf is identical to troll.
(17:27):
Sometimes it's more like what wewould think of a as a fairy, a
flower fairy. Sometimes it's a mountain spirit
that is huge. It depends on who is telling you
the story, what time period, what time frame we are in, what
other cultures they've been influenced by.
But deep down, when anyone in Iceland talks about the elves or
(17:51):
the trolls, they are talking about some sense that there is
something alive within the earth, within parts of the earth
that modern science tells us is inanimate.
These are things like mountains in Iceland, mountains come
alive, they erupt, they bring new rock out of the ground.
(18:15):
And you have these absolutely, phenomenally beautiful streams
of of red and and orange and pink molten rock that, you know,
tourists love to flock to the top of the nearest mountain to
watch this happen. But this is the earth being
born. This is the earth being shaped,
and how can you say that's not alive?
(18:38):
This is the earth making itself.And so our definition of what is
alive and what matters kind of has to change.
When you're faced with a volcanic eruption, doing this
beautiful thing that sometimes inconveniences you, sometimes
frightens you, but you still seethe beauty of.
(19:01):
So it's this, this different wayof interacting with nature, with
the earth, not just applying ourdefinitions of what is alive and
what is important and what is valuable and what should be
preserved, but seeing what is out there, paying attention to
what is out there and letting itaffect us.
(19:21):
And unfortunately, that sort of way of living and maneuvering
within the world is not something that is practiced in a
widespread way. When I think about your book,
one of the most striking threadsto me is the idea that seeing
the hidden folk isn't about eyesight, it's about perception.
(19:44):
How would you say we can practice seeing the world and
its inhabitants with that deeperkind of attention?
Seeing it, Seeing the world, as you said, as alive as a a
partner with us. Not something to be overcome,
but something to live with, to respect and to take care of.
(20:04):
Well, I think the first thing you have to do is turn off your
podcast. You have to go outside and not
have the phone in your ears. People are so used to being
entertained or so used to being social.
(20:25):
In order to appreciate nature, you have to be antisocial.
So you need to be outside. You need to be quiet.
You need to be not talking, not listening to somebody else
talking in your ears, not thinking of all the things
you're supposed to be doing thatday or getting in your 10,000
(20:46):
steps or whatever it is. Go out, find a rock, find a tree
stump, sit down, be quiet. Clear your mind and see what
happens. See what comes.
Start checking in with your other senses.
You Are you cold? Are you warm?
Do you feel breeze? Do you smell something?
(21:09):
You smell flowers? Do you smell trees?
Do you smell rot? You know you smell the ocean.
Do you hear birds? It doesn't matter what kind of
bird they are. Do not open up your phone and
try to do with your C cap to figure out what kind of bird it
is. You just want the individual
bird again, animals. If you, if you sit quietly
(21:29):
anywhere, sometimes these, you know, birds and animals come to
you and you can watch them because they're no longer afraid
of you. You're just a stump, you're just
a rock. You're not marching through
their habitat. But you really, you just have to
get outside of yourself and pay attention to what is there.
(21:50):
A lot of people in the cities don't have an opportunity to do
this. They they can never get anywhere
where they can't hear car noise.They can never get anywhere
where they can't, where they cansee stars or Northern Lights.
So, you know, sometimes it takessome effort of getting yourself
someplace. Sometimes it just means getting
up early, you know, going out before everything gets busy in
(22:13):
your neighborhood. But even in a, you know, a
public park in the middle of a city, you can go find a tree and
stand there and look at it. Even if you can't, you know, if
there's all kinds of noise around you or whatever.
But even just looking at the bark of a tree, you know, you
(22:34):
see all these patterns and colors that you don't notice if
you're just walking by it just sort of have to stop and pay
attention. In your book, you've said that
stories like these can save the Earth.
What might that salvation look like, not as an abstract idea,
(22:55):
but in the way we live, act and imagine our places in this
world? Well, I think one of the things,
having written this book and really thought about it, that I
have changed in the last couple of years, is that every time I
do something, I try to think first, how does this affect the
(23:17):
Earth? I have stopped going to Iceland
twice a year because I couldn't handle the carbon footprint of
flying twice. Now I go for longer each time.
OK, I can't stop going all together, but I realized that
flying twice a year just did notmake sense, that I was doing
(23:40):
more harm than good. I don't buy bottled water.
I don't understand why we got toaccept the concept of all of
these plastic bottles that are ending up in the ocean when it
is so easy just to refill a metal bottle and to carry that
(24:01):
around with you. There are other things that I
think, you know, before I buy something, do I need this?
Can I get it not in plastic? Is there any way to get it not
in plastic? You know, I, I think about these
sorts of things. I, I wear wool.
I don't wear fleece because woolis actually warmer than fleece
and it's a natural fiber and it's not bad for the earth.
(24:25):
I do wear stretch pants. I'm not giving up my stretch
pants. But you know, it's, it's like
you, you have to think about things and say, OK, what can I
give up? What can I do easily?
You know, of course we all recycle, but now we know that
our recycled objects are not really being reused, they're
just being thrown out somewhere else.
So that's not helping, you know,use less, think about it, use
(24:50):
anything if it's biodegradable, you know, try to get that.
So I, I think if every person thinks about the Earth first
now, even down to the point of dental floss, I went to a great
deal of trouble to find silk dental floss that is packaged in
(25:10):
cardboard. And before that I could not
bring myself to buy dental flossbecause it's this little plastic
package. It was driving me nuts.
And my dentist kept saying you have to floss, you have to
floss. And I kept thinking, well, what
does that do to the earth? Well, there's all these boxes of
dental floss everywhere. You start thinking weird things
like that. You know how many packages of
(25:32):
dental floss are there in landfills around the world?
But I think if people start thinking about the Earth before
they think about their own convenience, things will change.
All of these little things this this new way of perceiving, this
awareness that really do add up,especially on a larger scale as
(25:53):
more and more people are thinking like this.
Has your relationship to the unseen also changed since
writing this book? Do you find yourself noticing
other things you might have onceoverlooked?
Well, I think the one thing thathas changed is I'm no longer
embarrassed by it. I realized ever since I was a
(26:14):
kid, I've had favorite trees. You know, there was a tree in my
backyard. It was this scrawny little
sassafras tree that my dad decided to cut down one year
because he wanted to expand the Azalea garden or something like
that. And I remember running outside
and saying, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, you can't cut down that
tree. And now I realize that all my
(26:36):
life I've had these trees, you know, even though I live in very
forested area of Vermont, you know, I have, I have 100 acres
of forest on my farm that I walkthrough every day.
There are certain trees that I have to say hello to, you know,
every day and that I notice every day.
And the other day when I was on my walk with my dog, I came back
(26:58):
and said to my husband, I just found the absolute most
beautiful tree in our forest. And I have never seen it before.
And he said, will you take me there to see it?
So we went back the next day to try to find that same tree in
the forest. And I did find it.
And maybe it wasn't the absolutemost beautiful tree that day
because the sun wasn't hitting it quite the same way and the
and the colored leaves had fallen off and it wasn't quite,
(27:20):
you know, but it was still a beautiful tree.
And I realized that, you know, for many, many years I was
conditioned to not tell people that I was having these
supernatural experiences in the woods where trees were actually
talking to me and saying, look at me, look at me.
And now I say, no, this tree is phenomenal and rocks too, you
(27:45):
know, and I'm in Iceland, certain rocks that just, you
can't move that rock, you know, you simply cannot do anything to
that rock because it is so special.
And let's not even go in the mountains, you know?
But I, I don't mind talking about it now that these parts of
nature speak to me. And whether they're speaking in
(28:07):
English or it's just a feeling or it's just makes me feel
better to go there or makes me wonder about things.
And I think it's important that we we share that we are affected
by nature and that we are in love with nature.
And then other people will realize, hey, it's OK.
(28:28):
It's OK to say, wow, I really love that tree.
Let's not cut it down, OK? Right, right.
Well, I'm so happy to be living in this time where people are
feeling more free to express, express their innate connection
to the earth. That's basically what it is and
the way that they see and perceive it.
(28:49):
You write about artistry and imagination in your book, and
it's really a way of being able to express these creative
things, these different forms ofcommunication.
And I think books like, like thebook that you wrote, Looking for
the Hidden Folk, liberate other people as well to do the same.
Thinking about the winter solstice as we cross through the
(29:12):
season of darkness to the returning light, are there other
stories or practices that help you stay grounded and open to
this wonder? Well, I love winter.
I don't have any problem with the, the cold and the dark.
There's a, there's a saying in Iceland that there's no bad
weather, There's only poor clothing.
(29:32):
And I, I believe that very, you know, very strongly and I go
outside every day and spend, youknow, at least an hour outside
enjoying the snow, enjoying the cold, enjoying the, the
crispness of the air and how youcan see the clouds or the stars
or, or whatever. I don't think it's, it's a time
(29:53):
of year where you have to shut yourself out from nature.
It's just a different way of interacting with nature.
And it's, it's beautiful in many, many ways.
Again, if you pay attention, I mean, every, every time it
snows, it's a different snow. It's a different quality of
snow. It's a different type of
crystal. I think about it and the and the
(30:14):
way different snow sounds on thewindow, you know, outside my
office, you know, that's also a,you know, a way of appreciating
the season. Right.
There's a stillness and a sort of internal beauty to winter,
which you you can't find in any other season.
I I think, go outside when there's a full moon on the snow.
(30:37):
That is amazing. It's just otherworldly.
Well, thank you so much for joining us here today.
Your book, Looking for the Hidden Folk, How Iceland's Elves
Can Save the Earth, has enticed us with wonder and beauty and
imagination. And I, I can't recommend it
enough. So thank you so much for your
(30:58):
work, for this and your other books, and for being with us
here today. Thank you, Jonathan, it was fun.
As we step back from the world of the Hidden Folk, we carry
with us their quiet reminder that the land is alive, watching
and shaped by our attention, asking only that we notice,
(31:22):
respect, and honor the spaces around us.
In these longest nights of the year, humans have responded in
much the same way, by kindling light candles in windows,
lanterns on doorsteps, fires in hearths.
They are more than decoration. They are gestures of care,
(31:46):
invitations to the unseen, and away of marking our place in the
turning of the seasons. Perhaps if we pause and watch
closely, the hidden folk are there too, glimpsed in the glow
and reminding us that even in darkness there is connection,
warmth and great hope. Next, we'll explore the history
(32:10):
of candles in the window, the story of light in the season,
and why we have always sought toshine in the dark.
Before winter learned the language of switches and bulbs,
light arrived more deliberately.It came in the form of the
(32:30):
coveted candle struck, tended, and placed where it mattered
most, the window sill. Across cultures and centuries,
candles in winter have served asguides not only for the body
moving through snow or darkness,but for the spirit navigating
uncertainty. The act of lighting a candle has
(32:52):
often been understood as a kind of spiritual housekeeping.
Flame clears the air, it steadies the breath and marks a
pause for a reflection. In winter rituals across the
world, candles hold the promise that darkness is not an ending,
but a passage. One such practice was the Advent
(33:13):
Tree, possibly originating in Northern Europe.
Initially this was a tree decorated with 28 candles as
well as 7 candles symbolizing the days of the week, though
there have been many variations since.
In Germany, wooden candle arches, sfibogen glow in windows
quietly announcing the arrival of the Christmas season.
(33:34):
Intricately carved and rich withstory, they are a reminder of a
tradition tracing back to the Ore Mountains of Saxony, where
miners once worked long days underground and emerged Into
Darkness, often struggling to find their way home.
Candles placed in windows becamebeacons to help them return
safely. In Ireland, the candle in the
(33:56):
window carries another layer of meaning, one shaped by danger
and quiet courage. During the 17th and 18th
centuries, when Catholic worshipwas outlawed, priests traveled
in secret. Families placed a candle in
their window to signal that their home was safe, a welcome
place to stay and practice theirfaith.
(34:18):
When questioned by British authorities, Irish families said
that the candle symbolically welcomed Mary, Jose and Jesus in
their search for shelter. When Irish immigrants crossed
the Atlantic, they carried this practice with them.
In early America, candles and windows marked berths or guided
(34:38):
travelers across long distances between homes.
Inns used them to signal available rooms.
And during the era of the Underground Railroad, a candle
or Lantern sometimes meant sanctuary, an unspoken promise
of help. Across Sweden on Lucia Day,
(34:58):
children dress in white and carry candles, one wearing a
crown of light, as they move through the early morning dark
singing songs of hope. In Tibetan Buddhist homes and
monasteries, butter lamps made from clarified yak butter are
lit as acts of compassion, theirsteady glow believed to dispel
darkness and ignorance while making space for wisdom and
(35:21):
prayer. In the United States, Kwanzaa
unfolds candle by candle as the seven lights of the Kinara are
kindled to honor shared values such as unity, creativity and
faith, inviting reflection and communal belonging.
During the years turning. And in India, small oil lamps
called Diaz brighten winter festivals like Lori and Makar
(35:44):
Sankrati, their light offer to the sun and to the hope of
prosperity ahead. In Jewish tradition, the
hanukiah, sometimes called a menorah, are lit and placed on
windowsills, quiet symbol of endurance and resiliency.
I am recording this on the firstnight of Hanukkah after learning
about the shooting at a synagogue in Sydney, Australia,
(36:06):
claiming several lives, those who had simply gone to light
candles and celebrate the holiday.
It is tempting in moments like these to believe that light is
fragile, but it is brief. But we all know that even 1
candle can change how we experience a dark room.
There is a photograph that comesto mind, taken in 1931 in Kiel,
(36:28):
Germany. On a windowsill sits a Hanukia.
It's 8 flames burning brightly. And across the street, visible
in the same frame, is a buildingdraped in Nazi flags.
The photograph was taken by Rachel Posner, the wife of Rabbi
Akiva Posner. Soon after, the family fled
Germany and survived. 80 years later, the Posner's
(36:52):
grandchildren still celebrate the holiday with this same
Candelabra. Sometimes a small action is
enormously courageous. Sometimes all it takes is one
small spark. Candles have survived empires.
(37:12):
They have crossed oceans, they have flickered in windows during
plagues and wars and long winters when the future felt
uncertain. They are lit to remember those
departed, the newly born, and for wayfarers soon to come.
There's something quite powerfulin sharing a small symbol of
hope, somewhere visible for all to see.
(37:35):
And that, perhaps, is how we make it through the dark.
And somewhere just beyond the glass, the sun begins its slow
return. Winter has Plans of its own.
(37:55):
By Alex Klingenberg As we enter into a time of winter, we can
feel the stillness beckoning, even as we celebrate and
decorate and sing, even as we wrap presents or light candles
or deck halls, even if we are mourning or lonely or bereft.
(38:21):
The darkness is ours to rest in.The winter has plans of its own.
Our Autumnal Equinox episode, released just three months ago,
featured many of Alex Klingenberg's poems, and yet it
(38:45):
feels impossible that September was so recent.
Time seems to be hurtling forward, carrying us through
space and season without a chance to catch our breath.
This winter solstice episode marks our 50th episode, and that
too feels hard to believe. As we mark the turning of the
(39:08):
year, light our candles and listen for the hidden folk, we
are reminding ourselves to pause, to breathe, to look to
the trees, the land, and the quiet wisdom that surrounds us.
In doing so, we remember that time is not only something that
(39:28):
rushes past us, but something wecan meet with attention,
presence and care. We wish you all a warm and
peaceful solstice, a merry Yuletide and happy Yule.
May your candles burn bright andyour windows glow with welcome.
(39:51):
And if something catches your eye at the edge of the light,
don't worry, it's probably nothing.
Probably.
The winter solstice is a quiet turning, a moment when the world
seems to hold its breath. It's the longest night of the
year, and yet hidden within it is the promise of returning
light. For centuries people have
understood this threshold not assomething to fear, but as a
place of wonder and reassurance.Stories gather here.
(00:30):
Forests shimmer with unseen life.
Presences move softly at the edges of our vision, reminding
us that even in stillness the world is awake.
These are the moments that invite us to listen more closely
and to find comfort and mystery.In Iceland, the hidden folk,
(00:50):
being said to live among stones,roots and Moss covered hills are
keepers of these. In between places they offer a
way of seeing the natural world as alive, attentive and quietly
enchanted. My name is Dory Robinson and
(01:12):
this is tree speech. In this solstice episode, we
explore the beauty of in betweenmyths, between light and dark,
myth and landscape, the human world and the more than human
one. We will speak with author Nancy
Marie Brown about her book Looking for the Hidden Folk and
(01:32):
how Iceland's long relationship with elves reveals a deeper
truth. That mystery is not emptiness,
but presence that may save the earth.
Through winter woods, candlelight, and poetry, we'll
reflect on what is still growing, glowing, and guiding us
beneath the surface during the darkest days of the year.
(01:57):
From elves to evergreens, we hope this episode offers a sense
of warmth, wonder, and companionship right here and the
quiet mystery of winter. Winter Solstice by David Gate
The darkest day is no reason to be afraid.
(02:19):
We can let the moon have her moment and welcome silence under
the cover of Starlight. Tonight, I light the candles
earlier than any other night. There are lessons in the dark,
and a deeper hope to discover than merely the promise of
brighter days. Happy Winter Solstice.
(02:50):
I'm Jonathan Zoutner. Long before elves appeared on
mantels and in holiday books, they walked among us not in
body, but in the land itself. In Norse and Celtic traditions,
the hidden folk were liminal beings, neither gods nor humans,
(03:11):
but spirits bound to place. They lived in Groves, beneath
ancient trees, inside stones, and within burial mounds.
They shaped how people listened to the world.
Which forests were left standing?
Which streams were approached with reverence, which corners of
the land demanded silence? As Christianity and modernity
(03:36):
reshaped the world, these spirits were slowly diminished,
folded into folklore, softened into fairy tales, and eventually
transformed into charming, controllable figures.
Yet even today, they whisper through our stories.
The modern Elf on the Shelf is not just a toy.
(03:58):
It is a distant echo of an oldertruth that the world is alive,
watchful, and responsive to human behavior.
To explore what remains of that connection and what the Hidden
Folk might still ask of us, I'm joined by Nancy Marie Brown,
(04:19):
author of Looking for the HiddenFolk.
How Iceland's Elves Can Save theEarth.
Nancy has written 9 books, 8 of them on Iceland and the Viking
Age. She moves between extremes,
medieval literature and modern archaeology, myths and facts,
the visible and the hidden. Her books have been reviewed in
(04:43):
The New Yorker, The New York Times, The Economist, and the
Times Literary Supplement, to name a few, and she lives on a
farm in Vermont with a small herd of Icelandic horses and an
Icelandic sheepdog. I loved our conversation and
can't wait to share her wise, humorous and thoughtful words.
(05:04):
Let's listen well. Hello, Nancy.
Thank you so much for joining uson Tree Speech today.
Thank you for inviting me, Jonathan.
Your book Looking for the HiddenFolk, which I just loved.
I loved every story, every chapter, every anecdote.
(05:25):
I I thought it was just so wonderful and so magical and
enchanting. And the book invites us to
listen for what might be whispering just beyond our
ordinary senses as we approach the darkest night of the year,
the winter solstice. I wonder what 1st called you to
(05:47):
listen for the stories of Iceland's elves and hidden folk?
I think just the experience of being in Iceland itself.
I've gone maybe 30-5 Times Now. The first time was in mid 1980s
and I remember walking through alava field.
(06:11):
It's a it's a great open space and, and there's just you and
the sky and these amazing black rocks that are all strange
shapes and they seem like they are moving.
They seem like they are in spirited.
(06:32):
So as we're walking across this little tiny path, I mean, it's a
path that you can almost not see.
It was made by sheep and so sometimes it just disappears
into the blackness of the rock and you have to stand there and
think about it. But as I'm walking along here
and there's there's nothing protecting me between the rock
(06:55):
and the sky and I feel things behind me and I'm thinking, OK,
something is coming up behind me.
I turn around, of course there'snothing there.
It could easily have been a fox.It could easily have been an
eagle. There's lots of birds that live
in these lava fields. This was in the summer.
You know, I shouldn't have felt threatened, but there was
(07:17):
something watching me. And it's, it's a feeling that I
feel every time that I go back on this particular path, which
I, I try to visit as often as I can.
And I'm accepting of it now. Back then I was a little bit
afraid. But now I'm saying I'm here
again. Is it OK if I come visit?
(07:40):
And whatever it is in the lava field has now accepted me and
makes me comfortable. And I have certain rocks, or at
least a rock Cairn, which is wasput up long ago by shepherds so
they could find the path that I go and visit and I talk to and I
sit there and I have a cup of tea and I say I'm back.
(08:00):
Is it OK that I come to visit? So it's this sort of sense that
there is something in the place,there is something in the rock,
there is something beyond what Ican see and hear that I just
feel when I'm at that place. And my Icelandic friends who who
(08:21):
never used to talk about this until I wrote this book, and now
they talk about it all the time,they say you are sensing elves.
And in the past, they would never admit to feeling or seeing
elves themselves because I'm an American and I wouldn't
understand. But now that I have made it
clear to them that I feel this too, they say, oh, yeah, that's
(08:41):
what we feel. That's what we feel when we're
out in nature. You write about how stories
shape what we believe to be realand and as you just mentioned, I
think they also give us power toexpress what we believe to be
(09:01):
real. Since you first started going to
Iceland then and have made the trip many times, how have these
Icelandic tails reshaped the world you see around you in the
stones that you mentioned in trees or the spaces between the
edges that you write about in inyour book?
Well, I think the most importantexperience for me was the very
(09:25):
first time I went to Iceland. And actually I was, I was
searching for a story. I was a graduate student at Penn
State University. I was studying medieval
literature, and I was just falling in love with the
Icelandic sagas. These are a collection of 40 or
100, depending on how many you you want to include into the
(09:46):
genre of Tales of ordinary people living in Iceland during
the Middle Ages. And there was one in particular,
a man named Snorri, who was a bit of a trickster, a bit of a
con man, a bit of a, you know, crazy guy, not your Viking hero.
He was the smart one, not the the strong one.
(10:09):
But his saga just really appealed to me.
And I wanted to see the farm where he had lived.
So I walked down from the town about 3 miles away carrying my
backpack. And I go up to the farmhouse
door and I say in essentially old Norse Sonora, go, they lived
here. And the farmer looks at me like
(10:31):
I'm insane. This is the 1980s.
And he says, yes, 1000 years ago.
And he brought his son out of the cow barn.
And they invited me inside. They served me coffee.
They called up the the local English teacher to come and talk
to me and my husband because we were not making sense in Old
Norse. And they started telling me
(10:52):
stories. And one of the stories was of
the hill behind the farm, which was called the Holy Mountain.
And the story that the farmer told me then was one of the ones
from the sagas that was written down in about 1200.
It's about a person who lived there in 870.
(11:12):
And it was how the whole north side of the hill opened up like
doors. And the shepherd could see the
God Thor inside, holding a feastand welcoming new visitors into
the feast. And among the new visitors was
the farmer from that farm who they learned later that day had
(11:33):
drowned when he was out fishing.So this is a story being told to
me about a place about a settlerfrom the eight 70s or the eight
90s being told to me by a dairy farmer who lived there in the
1980s. And I was just absolutely blown
away. These people have this sense of
(11:55):
story of place that they know why this place is holy and they
feel it's holiness. And so now every time I go to
Iceland, I have to climb to the top of this hill and sit there
and feel the holiness and, and look out at the surrounding
scenery and think about what does it mean if the God Thor is
(12:19):
living in this hill? And what does it mean if people
go into this hill to live the afterlife.
Now, of course, this holy mountain was taken over by a
Christian monastery in the Middle Ages.
And so it has an additional layer of holiness on it.
There is a a were ruin on the top of the hill that might have
been where the monks went to meditate.
(12:39):
So there's, you know, there's generations of different kinds
of spiritual feeling attached tothis hill.
But it's just a hill. It's it's really not big or
exotic or strange. It's a hill on a farm.
And yet it has this presence. It has this importance because
(13:01):
of the story. It's profound and and probably
hard to explain. In your book you also write
about how certain construction projects and certain places were
either changed or or moved or the the deadlines changed or
certain things had to happen before that they could occur
(13:21):
because of the presence of elvesliving within the areas or the
perceived presence. I wonder then if we could go a
little bit further. What do you think it means in
our modern world to live as if the land is inhabited or or even
sacred? Well, it's funny that you
brought that up because just this week there was another ELF
(13:46):
construction story out of Iceland that I shared on my
Facebook page. There was a wonderful little
video from the Icelandic Rd. administration.
They are building a bridge across the river in the South of
Iceland. And one of the bridge abutments
will be on an island in the middle of the river.
(14:07):
And this island actually has trees.
It's one of the places in Iceland that really does have a
little Birch forest. And many of these trees had been
planted and they were, they wereloved, beloved by the local
people. So as the road construction crew
is starting to build on this island, an old man who came from
(14:32):
one of the farms on either side of the river has himself ferried
over. And he says you have to be
concerned about the ghost who lives on this island.
And you must make sure that he is happy with where you are
putting your bridge abutment or the bridge will fall down.
Now, as you said, the, the road administration, the road crews
(14:56):
in Iceland get this periodicallyand they know what to do.
Now they call in a seer, a womanwho can speak with the unseen
people, the hidden folk. And she said, well, actually
it's not a ghost. It's not a ghost of a human.
It is a colony of elves. And that's, that's also a common
(15:18):
feature. And they are willing to let the
bridge construction go through because they understand this is
an important Rd. connecting, youknow, villages and there had
been a bridge there that had been washed out, so it needed to
be replaced. They, they understand that they
will cooperate, but you have to move the trees.
(15:39):
You have to preserve as many of the trees as you can and find
new places for them to live. So there's this video of the
road construction crew digging up each of these birches with a
huge root ball, putting them in the the Bay of a dump truck,
taking them over to one of the, you know, other banks of the
(16:00):
river and replanting them and completely straight faced.
The man from the road construction authority who was
being interviewed by the film makers says there's a lot of
things out in the world that we can't see, but we can cooperate
with them and we can live with nature.
(16:21):
We can do our best, you know, and, and he just says, you know,
there's, there's not a big deal.It's if this tree is important
to somebody, we can move it. You know, if this tree is
important to an elf or to a person, it doesn't make any
difference. We can cooperate with nature.
So there's there's sort of this sense in Iceland that we do what
(16:43):
we can, we go as far as we can to treat the earth as if it
matters and we all feel better for it and.
That's such a beautiful story. I wonder, then, do you think
that believing in the hidden folk is less about superstition
and more about ways of paying attention of of honoring what we
(17:05):
can't fully explain or, or or would never be able to?
I think that's exactly the point, because the word elf is
one of these very changeable words.
It means different things at different times in Icelandic
history and Icelandic literature.
Sometimes the word elf is identical to troll.
(17:27):
Sometimes it's more like what wewould think of a as a fairy, a
flower fairy. Sometimes it's a mountain spirit
that is huge. It depends on who is telling you
the story, what time period, what time frame we are in, what
other cultures they've been influenced by.
But deep down, when anyone in Iceland talks about the elves or
(17:51):
the trolls, they are talking about some sense that there is
something alive within the earth, within parts of the earth
that modern science tells us is inanimate.
These are things like mountains in Iceland, mountains come
alive, they erupt, they bring new rock out of the ground.
(18:15):
And you have these absolutely, phenomenally beautiful streams
of of red and and orange and pink molten rock that, you know,
tourists love to flock to the top of the nearest mountain to
watch this happen. But this is the earth being
born. This is the earth being shaped,
and how can you say that's not alive?
(18:38):
This is the earth making itself.And so our definition of what is
alive and what matters kind of has to change.
When you're faced with a volcanic eruption, doing this
beautiful thing that sometimes inconveniences you, sometimes
frightens you, but you still seethe beauty of.
(19:01):
So it's this, this different wayof interacting with nature, with
the earth, not just applying ourdefinitions of what is alive and
what is important and what is valuable and what should be
preserved, but seeing what is out there, paying attention to
what is out there and letting itaffect us.
(19:21):
And unfortunately, that sort of way of living and maneuvering
within the world is not something that is practiced in a
widespread way. When I think about your book,
one of the most striking threadsto me is the idea that seeing
the hidden folk isn't about eyesight, it's about perception.
(19:44):
How would you say we can practice seeing the world and
its inhabitants with that deeperkind of attention?
Seeing it, Seeing the world, as you said, as alive as a a
partner with us. Not something to be overcome,
but something to live with, to respect and to take care of.
(20:04):
Well, I think the first thing you have to do is turn off your
podcast. You have to go outside and not
have the phone in your ears. People are so used to being
entertained or so used to being social.
(20:25):
In order to appreciate nature, you have to be antisocial.
So you need to be outside. You need to be quiet.
You need to be not talking, not listening to somebody else
talking in your ears, not thinking of all the things
you're supposed to be doing thatday or getting in your 10,000
(20:46):
steps or whatever it is. Go out, find a rock, find a tree
stump, sit down, be quiet. Clear your mind and see what
happens. See what comes.
Start checking in with your other senses.
You Are you cold? Are you warm?
Do you feel breeze? Do you smell something?
(21:09):
You smell flowers? Do you smell trees?
Do you smell rot? You know you smell the ocean.
Do you hear birds? It doesn't matter what kind of
bird they are. Do not open up your phone and
try to do with your C cap to figure out what kind of bird it
is. You just want the individual
bird again, animals. If you, if you sit quietly
(21:29):
anywhere, sometimes these, you know, birds and animals come to
you and you can watch them because they're no longer afraid
of you. You're just a stump, you're just
a rock. You're not marching through
their habitat. But you really, you just have to
get outside of yourself and pay attention to what is there.
(21:50):
A lot of people in the cities don't have an opportunity to do
this. They they can never get anywhere
where they can't hear car noise.They can never get anywhere
where they can't, where they cansee stars or Northern Lights.
So, you know, sometimes it takessome effort of getting yourself
someplace. Sometimes it just means getting
up early, you know, going out before everything gets busy in
(22:13):
your neighborhood. But even in a, you know, a
public park in the middle of a city, you can go find a tree and
stand there and look at it. Even if you can't, you know, if
there's all kinds of noise around you or whatever.
But even just looking at the bark of a tree, you know, you
(22:34):
see all these patterns and colors that you don't notice if
you're just walking by it just sort of have to stop and pay
attention. In your book, you've said that
stories like these can save the Earth.
What might that salvation look like, not as an abstract idea,
(22:55):
but in the way we live, act and imagine our places in this
world? Well, I think one of the things,
having written this book and really thought about it, that I
have changed in the last couple of years, is that every time I
do something, I try to think first, how does this affect the
(23:17):
Earth? I have stopped going to Iceland
twice a year because I couldn't handle the carbon footprint of
flying twice. Now I go for longer each time.
OK, I can't stop going all together, but I realized that
flying twice a year just did notmake sense, that I was doing
(23:40):
more harm than good. I don't buy bottled water.
I don't understand why we got toaccept the concept of all of
these plastic bottles that are ending up in the ocean when it
is so easy just to refill a metal bottle and to carry that
(24:01):
around with you. There are other things that I
think, you know, before I buy something, do I need this?
Can I get it not in plastic? Is there any way to get it not
in plastic? You know, I, I think about these
sorts of things. I, I wear wool.
I don't wear fleece because woolis actually warmer than fleece
and it's a natural fiber and it's not bad for the earth.
(24:25):
I do wear stretch pants. I'm not giving up my stretch
pants. But you know, it's, it's like
you, you have to think about things and say, OK, what can I
give up? What can I do easily?
You know, of course we all recycle, but now we know that
our recycled objects are not really being reused, they're
just being thrown out somewhere else.
So that's not helping, you know,use less, think about it, use
(24:50):
anything if it's biodegradable, you know, try to get that.
So I, I think if every person thinks about the Earth first
now, even down to the point of dental floss, I went to a great
deal of trouble to find silk dental floss that is packaged in
(25:10):
cardboard. And before that I could not
bring myself to buy dental flossbecause it's this little plastic
package. It was driving me nuts.
And my dentist kept saying you have to floss, you have to
floss. And I kept thinking, well, what
does that do to the earth? Well, there's all these boxes of
dental floss everywhere. You start thinking weird things
like that. You know how many packages of
(25:32):
dental floss are there in landfills around the world?
But I think if people start thinking about the Earth before
they think about their own convenience, things will change.
All of these little things this this new way of perceiving, this
awareness that really do add up,especially on a larger scale as
(25:53):
more and more people are thinking like this.
Has your relationship to the unseen also changed since
writing this book? Do you find yourself noticing
other things you might have onceoverlooked?
Well, I think the one thing thathas changed is I'm no longer
embarrassed by it. I realized ever since I was a
(26:14):
kid, I've had favorite trees. You know, there was a tree in my
backyard. It was this scrawny little
sassafras tree that my dad decided to cut down one year
because he wanted to expand the Azalea garden or something like
that. And I remember running outside
and saying, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, you can't cut down that
tree. And now I realize that all my
(26:36):
life I've had these trees, you know, even though I live in very
forested area of Vermont, you know, I have, I have 100 acres
of forest on my farm that I walkthrough every day.
There are certain trees that I have to say hello to, you know,
every day and that I notice every day.
And the other day when I was on my walk with my dog, I came back
(26:58):
and said to my husband, I just found the absolute most
beautiful tree in our forest. And I have never seen it before.
And he said, will you take me there to see it?
So we went back the next day to try to find that same tree in
the forest. And I did find it.
And maybe it wasn't the absolutemost beautiful tree that day
because the sun wasn't hitting it quite the same way and the
and the colored leaves had fallen off and it wasn't quite,
(27:20):
you know, but it was still a beautiful tree.
And I realized that, you know, for many, many years I was
conditioned to not tell people that I was having these
supernatural experiences in the woods where trees were actually
talking to me and saying, look at me, look at me.
And now I say, no, this tree is phenomenal and rocks too, you
(27:45):
know, and I'm in Iceland, certain rocks that just, you
can't move that rock, you know, you simply cannot do anything to
that rock because it is so special.
And let's not even go in the mountains, you know?
But I, I don't mind talking about it now that these parts of
nature speak to me. And whether they're speaking in
(28:07):
English or it's just a feeling or it's just makes me feel
better to go there or makes me wonder about things.
And I think it's important that we we share that we are affected
by nature and that we are in love with nature.
And then other people will realize, hey, it's OK.
(28:28):
It's OK to say, wow, I really love that tree.
Let's not cut it down, OK? Right, right.
Well, I'm so happy to be living in this time where people are
feeling more free to express, express their innate connection
to the earth. That's basically what it is and
the way that they see and perceive it.
(28:49):
You write about artistry and imagination in your book, and
it's really a way of being able to express these creative
things, these different forms ofcommunication.
And I think books like, like thebook that you wrote, Looking for
the Hidden Folk, liberate other people as well to do the same.
Thinking about the winter solstice as we cross through the
(29:12):
season of darkness to the returning light, are there other
stories or practices that help you stay grounded and open to
this wonder? Well, I love winter.
I don't have any problem with the, the cold and the dark.
There's a, there's a saying in Iceland that there's no bad
weather, There's only poor clothing.
(29:32):
And I, I believe that very, you know, very strongly and I go
outside every day and spend, youknow, at least an hour outside
enjoying the snow, enjoying the cold, enjoying the, the
crispness of the air and how youcan see the clouds or the stars
or, or whatever. I don't think it's, it's a time
(29:53):
of year where you have to shut yourself out from nature.
It's just a different way of interacting with nature.
And it's, it's beautiful in many, many ways.
Again, if you pay attention, I mean, every, every time it
snows, it's a different snow. It's a different quality of
snow. It's a different type of
crystal. I think about it and the and the
(30:14):
way different snow sounds on thewindow, you know, outside my
office, you know, that's also a,you know, a way of appreciating
the season. Right.
There's a stillness and a sort of internal beauty to winter,
which you you can't find in any other season.
I I think, go outside when there's a full moon on the snow.
(30:37):
That is amazing. It's just otherworldly.
Well, thank you so much for joining us here today.
Your book, Looking for the Hidden Folk, How Iceland's Elves
Can Save the Earth, has enticed us with wonder and beauty and
imagination. And I, I can't recommend it
enough. So thank you so much for your
(30:58):
work, for this and your other books, and for being with us
here today. Thank you, Jonathan, it was fun.
As we step back from the world of the Hidden Folk, we carry
with us their quiet reminder that the land is alive, watching
and shaped by our attention, asking only that we notice,
(31:22):
respect, and honor the spaces around us.
In these longest nights of the year, humans have responded in
much the same way, by kindling light candles in windows,
lanterns on doorsteps, fires in hearths.
They are more than decoration. They are gestures of care,
(31:46):
invitations to the unseen, and away of marking our place in the
turning of the seasons. Perhaps if we pause and watch
closely, the hidden folk are there too, glimpsed in the glow
and reminding us that even in darkness there is connection,
warmth and great hope. Next, we'll explore the history
(32:10):
of candles in the window, the story of light in the season,
and why we have always sought toshine in the dark.
Before winter learned the language of switches and bulbs,
light arrived more deliberately.It came in the form of the
(32:30):
coveted candle struck, tended, and placed where it mattered
most, the window sill. Across cultures and centuries,
candles in winter have served asguides not only for the body
moving through snow or darkness,but for the spirit navigating
uncertainty. The act of lighting a candle has
(32:52):
often been understood as a kind of spiritual housekeeping.
Flame clears the air, it steadies the breath and marks a
pause for a reflection. In winter rituals across the
world, candles hold the promise that darkness is not an ending,
but a passage. One such practice was the Advent
(33:13):
Tree, possibly originating in Northern Europe.
Initially this was a tree decorated with 28 candles as
well as 7 candles symbolizing the days of the week, though
there have been many variations since.
In Germany, wooden candle arches, sfibogen glow in windows
quietly announcing the arrival of the Christmas season.
(33:34):
Intricately carved and rich withstory, they are a reminder of a
tradition tracing back to the Ore Mountains of Saxony, where
miners once worked long days underground and emerged Into
Darkness, often struggling to find their way home.
Candles placed in windows becamebeacons to help them return
safely. In Ireland, the candle in the
(33:56):
window carries another layer of meaning, one shaped by danger
and quiet courage. During the 17th and 18th
centuries, when Catholic worshipwas outlawed, priests traveled
in secret. Families placed a candle in
their window to signal that their home was safe, a welcome
place to stay and practice theirfaith.
(34:18):
When questioned by British authorities, Irish families said
that the candle symbolically welcomed Mary, Jose and Jesus in
their search for shelter. When Irish immigrants crossed
the Atlantic, they carried this practice with them.
In early America, candles and windows marked berths or guided
(34:38):
travelers across long distances between homes.
Inns used them to signal available rooms.
And during the era of the Underground Railroad, a candle
or Lantern sometimes meant sanctuary, an unspoken promise
of help. Across Sweden on Lucia Day,
(34:58):
children dress in white and carry candles, one wearing a
crown of light, as they move through the early morning dark
singing songs of hope. In Tibetan Buddhist homes and
monasteries, butter lamps made from clarified yak butter are
lit as acts of compassion, theirsteady glow believed to dispel
darkness and ignorance while making space for wisdom and
(35:21):
prayer. In the United States, Kwanzaa
unfolds candle by candle as the seven lights of the Kinara are
kindled to honor shared values such as unity, creativity and
faith, inviting reflection and communal belonging.
During the years turning. And in India, small oil lamps
called Diaz brighten winter festivals like Lori and Makar
(35:44):
Sankrati, their light offer to the sun and to the hope of
prosperity ahead. In Jewish tradition, the
hanukiah, sometimes called a menorah, are lit and placed on
windowsills, quiet symbol of endurance and resiliency.
I am recording this on the firstnight of Hanukkah after learning
about the shooting at a synagogue in Sydney, Australia,
(36:06):
claiming several lives, those who had simply gone to light
candles and celebrate the holiday.
It is tempting in moments like these to believe that light is
fragile, but it is brief. But we all know that even 1
candle can change how we experience a dark room.
There is a photograph that comesto mind, taken in 1931 in Kiel,
(36:28):
Germany. On a windowsill sits a Hanukia.
It's 8 flames burning brightly. And across the street, visible
in the same frame, is a buildingdraped in Nazi flags.
The photograph was taken by Rachel Posner, the wife of Rabbi
Akiva Posner. Soon after, the family fled
Germany and survived. 80 years later, the Posner's
(36:52):
grandchildren still celebrate the holiday with this same
Candelabra. Sometimes a small action is
enormously courageous. Sometimes all it takes is one
small spark. Candles have survived empires.
(37:12):
They have crossed oceans, they have flickered in windows during
plagues and wars and long winters when the future felt
uncertain. They are lit to remember those
departed, the newly born, and for wayfarers soon to come.
There's something quite powerfulin sharing a small symbol of
hope, somewhere visible for all to see.
(37:35):
And that, perhaps, is how we make it through the dark.
And somewhere just beyond the glass, the sun begins its slow
return. Winter has Plans of its own.
(37:55):
By Alex Klingenberg As we enter into a time of winter, we can
feel the stillness beckoning, even as we celebrate and
decorate and sing, even as we wrap presents or light candles
or deck halls, even if we are mourning or lonely or bereft.
(38:21):
The darkness is ours to rest in.The winter has plans of its own.
Our Autumnal Equinox episode, released just three months ago,
featured many of Alex Klingenberg's poems, and yet it
(38:45):
feels impossible that September was so recent.
Time seems to be hurtling forward, carrying us through
space and season without a chance to catch our breath.
This winter solstice episode marks our 50th episode, and that
too feels hard to believe. As we mark the turning of the
(39:08):
year, light our candles and listen for the hidden folk, we
are reminding ourselves to pause, to breathe, to look to
the trees, the land, and the quiet wisdom that surrounds us.
In doing so, we remember that time is not only something that
(39:28):
rushes past us, but something wecan meet with attention,
presence and care. We wish you all a warm and
peaceful solstice, a merry Yuletide and happy Yule.
May your candles burn bright andyour windows glow with welcome.
(39:51):
And if something catches your eye at the edge of the light,
don't worry, it's probably nothing.
Probably.
Popular Podcasts
Stuff You Should Know
If you've ever wanted to know about champagne, satanism, the Stonewall Uprising, chaos theory, LSD, El Nino, true crime and Rosa Parks, then look no further. Josh and Chuck have you covered.
Dateline NBC
Current and classic episodes, featuring compelling true-crime mysteries, powerful documentaries and in-depth investigations. Follow now to get the latest episodes of Dateline NBC completely free, or subscribe to Dateline Premium for ad-free listening and exclusive bonus content: DatelinePremium.com
The Breakfast Club
The World's Most Dangerous Morning Show, The Breakfast Club, With DJ Envy, Jess Hilarious, And Charlamagne Tha God!