We welcomed the new year from a chalet, looking over a vast valley sparkling with the fluorescent lights of alpine villages. We had the Milky Way above and its poor but deeply enchanting reflection below us. At midnight the villagers lit their fireworks and we opened our window to let in the sub-zero winds that carried the crackle and pop of communal cheer. We saw before we heard. We felt before we saw. We then turned out our lights to watch and listen.
There is something so poetic about seeing light suddenly emerge from darkness. It kindles an emotion of pure joy in me. I wonder if that is a remnant of my very first experience of light, as I emerged into it almost three decades ago.
Colour is the touch of the eye, music to the deaf, a word out of the darkness.
– Orhan Pahmuk, “My Name is Red“
Entry for Weekly Photo Challenge: I consider this moment the greatest reward for not having subjected us to the tyranny of a typical "New Year Party".