The coming of the new year… soon

January 11, 2026
Owl Feather Farm, San Juan Island

Happy New Year!

That’s what we all say this time of year. But is it really?

We don’t mean, is it happy… any time of year may be happy or not, depending on factors that have nothing to do with arbitrary numbers on a human construct called a “calendar.”

We mean, is it really a “new year”?

Here in the northern latitudes we’re in the midst of what’s come to be known as “the Big Dark,” a label reflecting both daylight shortage and weather best described as sullen. Here at Owl Feather Farm we are experiencing a puny 500 minutes of daylight now—compared to the glorious days of early July when our total is a whopping 860 minutes a day, and a wondrous glow lingers in the far northwest horizon long past sundown.

The coming of the new year… soon
Hopeful omen in a winter sky

Now, we rise in the pitch dark to let out the dogs and turn out the horses. The latter, Cereus and Cocoa, look dubious when we open the paddock gate with specks of cold rain flecking sideways. Really? They grump, even though they are northern breeds theoretically designed for this. Eventually they stump out there and look for a spot in the lee of the woods.

So if you were to pick an occasion to declare a “new year,” would it be now? In reality, nothing has begun, neither meteorologically nor chronologically. The Western world’s date for new year was arbitrarily chosen by early Romans because January is the month of Janus, the god of beginnings. Some early Christians celebrated new year March 25, thinking spring was a better start, but the January date was reaffirmed by Pope Gregory XIII because, well, it helped sort out some arcane problems in scheduling Easter.

Eastern cultures, though, more often celebrated a new year in February, a time now still marked as Chinese New Year. This makes more sense because February is the month when light makes a strong return… Here at our farm, we gain 80 minutes of daylight in February as opposed to a gain of just 40 minutes in January, even though February is a shorter month.

So while the sun does begin to swing back north at the end of December, it’s barely discernible until Chinese New Year rolls around. And if you want to really celebrate the start of something, wouldn’t the spring equinox in March be a better choice?

The real point is that all these dates and schedules are marks on paper (or bits and bytes in the ether) and our mission is to make our own light as best we can when it’s naturally in short supply. That’s why we’re working our way through the firewood stack out by the garage as January moves along: Bringing the light and warmth of summer indoors in the depths of winter, whatever year one calls it.

—Eric Lucas

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