I live in a tiny rural village out in the middle of nowhere, which is an excellent reminder that Christmas traditions, regardless of religion, spring from a common human defiance of the darkness of winter’s depths.

With just a little over 8 hours of daylight now, and with snow on the ground and temperatures that are beginning to become seriously cold, warmth and light become more precious.

I’ve always loved Christmas, but only until maybe the past decade or so did I realize the traditions I love the most center around warmth and light — physical manifestations perhaps of love.

I decorate just a little bit, putting up a Christmas display full of evergreen and pine cones, gold tinsel and candles. I listen to beautiful music. I prepare food I might not otherwise indulge in, especially sweets.

And I try to share with friends I love, kindling spiritual, if I might be indulged that word, connections that are as warming as other traditions.

There’s a long winter ahead yet, but Christmas makes it all a bit more bearable.