A Celebration of Light / Sparkle Berries

The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. ~ John 1:5.

This includes a first-ever episode of Frozen Bubbles After Dark!

The occasion: a private Christmas candlelight service, held in my own backyard, in celebration and memory of those we love who cannot be with us at Christmas. If you are grieving a loss, and Christmas is hard, and you are trying to learn to celebrate your blessings instead of being sorrowful, this one's for you.

This posting talks about the Solstice, describes two more of my frozen soap bubble adventures, and shares some personal philosophies about celebrating Christmas and reclaiming joy in a time of loss.

It was VERY cold here on this day in central Pennsylvania. I did TWO separate frozen bubble photo shoots, one in the morning at 17 degrees, featuring red berries from a neighbor's trees. 

And I decided to do a second bubble photo shoot after dark, at 19 and 18 degrees (our overnight low would be 8!), aided by candles, flashlights, and a headlamp. The how-to on all of that appears below. Oh, and be sure to check your battery and your memory card space BEFORE you go out, as these are not conditions to be messing around with ANYTHING in the dark!

There are two photos so I've got two songs. First is Stevie Nicks, with Silent Night. Second is Loreena McKennitt, with Mummers' Dance.

As always, here's my canonical set of frozen bubble tips.

-----~~~~~-----two frozen bubble adventures-----~~~~~-----

Frozen Bubbles Episode 4. Red Berries and Bubbles
Local temp: 17 degrees
Time: between 9:30 and 10 a.m.
Conditions: sunny, good light, but far too breezy for this sort of thing!
Key takeaways: don't try to blow bubbles above your head!

On a recent walk, I admired the red berries on a tree in a neighbor's yard. So I asked my neighbor if it was okay if I walked over and made frozen bubbles on the berry trees on one of these cold mornings. 

As it turns out, Faith (whom I've known since winter 2004/05, when she helped save me during a horrible ice storm that brought down hundreds of trees, took out power for days, and tried to ruin my brand new house!) enjoys my photos, knows for certain that I'm a crazy photographer geek girl, and didn't mind at all!

So on this morning, I trundled on over, and tried to make frozen bubbles IN the tree. Well, what a mess! I was trying to blow bubbles over my head and I got sticky bubble mix down my coat and on my camera bag. (This is why you keep paper towels in your coat pockets!) It was also very windy and kept blowing my bubbles out!

I gave up on the "frozen bubbles IN the tree" photo op quickly, and simply removed a few tiny branches from the tree and placed them at my feet. There was snow on the ground and a bit of green grass; against all of that, the red berries looked festive and pretty.

I took some photos but it was quite breezy there, and kept blowing my bubbles out and away, so I brought the little branches with their red berries back to our yard, where I placed them on a small table and tried again in a more sheltered spot. The shot in the extras is one of my better photos from the set. (And of course, I saved those gorgeous red berries for later!)

Frozen Bubbles Episode 5. The Return of the Light
Local temp: 19 when I went out and 18 when I came back in
Time: just before 6 p.m., as full darkness was upon us
Conditions: it was a silent night; dark and still and bone-chillingly cold (temps around 18 in the dark are WAY WAY colder than the same temp in daylight).
Key takeaways: really gorgeous, ethereal white and glowy results, no extra saturation used, but a lot of complications and considerations, and it's better if you have a PLAN in advance (I didn't).

After one of my frozen bubble episodes, I often sit and make notes of ideas that I have, and images that come to mind, and strategies that will bring about better results. I had done a morning bubble shoot, and was scribbling away with ideas.

For a while, I'd been secretly planning some kind of bubble shoot featuring sparkly stuff, like crystals. I'd also been thinking about candles, and mixing all of that together: a shoot featuring crystals, bubbles, and candles, on one of the longest nights of the year.

I wasn't sure I would really go through with it because, to admit the truth, I was a little bit afraid of the whole thing. My sparkles that I'd chosen were some of my more expensive crystal pieces, and I worried about whether I could pull it off without ruining something.

I also knew I'd need my monopod and I wasn't used to shooting frozen bubble shots in darkness. So I thought I'd need some flashlights, maybe a headlamp, and candles, and a lighter to light the candles. 

I'm going to need more POCKETS if I keep adding more implements!!! (In retrospect, a fishing vest with many pockets might not be a bad idea for a photographer who has lots of toys, and I think I do have one of those somewhere. Hmm.)

I was too silly of a girl to actually GO OUT TO THAT SPOT and prep the area, which was lax of me, in retrospect. (But honestly, I thought I might bag out, and not do it.) When I went out, the chair I had hoped to sit in was covered in crunchy snow. The plastic parson's table I wanted to shoot on was covered in snow too, which was actually pretty cool, as that would work well in the shots.

I could not put anything down without it landing in snow, so I had to CARRY THE CAMERA and the camera case and the monopod the whole time. When I actually blew bubbles, I'd slide my camera/monopod down under my left armpit so it wouldn't get sticky. My toys were in a small plastic container that I placed on one of my stumps.

I placed my candles along the edges of the parson's table, and lit them, and I placed my crystal candlestick holder in the middle, and my ornament holder with my circular crystal item hanging from it along an edge, where it looked sort of like an itty bitty sparkly ferris wheel at the world's tiniest winter carnival. :-) And then I carefully blew bubbles along the edges.

As cold as it was, my bubbles froze to opaque whiteness almost instantly. Sometimes they fizzle out even if there is no wind. So I was trying to keep those bubble spots full: when one went out, I'd blow another. If you blow a new bubble too close to an older bubble, you might blow out the first one. So it's touchy: Blow. But not TOO hard.

I started with three candles, and two of them were smaller, tea-light ones. Well, one of them went out long before my shoot was done. In retrospect, I'd like more small candles. In fact, I'd like the LED ones that you don't even have to light, though I'm not sure they'd look as good in photos. I'll see if I have any of those, or can pick up a few.

My crystals made it through the shoot without any incidents, and I was so relieved when I brought everything back inside, and every single piece was okay. I did give a sigh of relief, and then I washed my implements and my hands in warm (not hot) water. 

And I nearly passed out, my hands hurt SO MUCH!!! They just throbbed! I had gloves on as much as I could, but I have to take at least ONE glove off to blow bubbles, as you always get sticky bubble mix on yourself (no touchie the camera with sticky fingers!); I wipe the sticky stuff off with a paper towel and then put my glove(s) back on. Anyway, my hands were so, so cold. In a few minutes, I was okay, but oh my, was that miserable. I do not recommend it.

Lighting was another consideration. I had a headlamp on my head and flashlights in two different coat pockets. As there was nowhere to PUT the flashlights (snow all around, remember), and I didn't have hands free to hold them or angle them, they ended up being worthless to me. 

So what I had was my headlamp. I would turn it on to set up my shoot and blow my bubbles, then turn it off and simply take photos in the darkness. First off, the light was not nearly bright enough to be helpful. (And to think: this is the headlamp I take backpacking, where I am sometimes audience to pitched night battles between coyotes and elk!)

And second, sometimes I forgot to turn the headlamp off, and you could see more detail of the table, etc., in those shots. I wonder if a lantern hanging off to the side somewhere (maybe on a shepherd's hook, but good luck getting that sucker in the frozen ground) that I could turn on while setting up the shots and then off while taking them - might have been more helpful. Hmm. A thought for next time. Oh yeah, there WILL be a next time!

-----~~~~~-----some thoughts on reclaiming joy in a time of loss-----~~~~~-----

Overall reflections: It is meaningful to me that I did this photo shoot around Christmas, and heading into one of the longest, COLDEST nights of the year. Technically, Saturday (Solstice) was the shortest day of the year. So starting with Sunday (this day!), the days are starting to grow longer again. 

I posted this notice on Facebook that morning:
Hello to the morning sun. We are on the upswing now. 
Every day will have a little bit more daylight! 
THE DAY WINS OVER NIGHT AGAIN!!!

So here is a celebration of the return of the light.

I have also been missing my family a lot at Christmas, as we had wonderful Christmas visits there over so many years. My parents, age 92 and 93, and married 73 years, died seven hours apart in September 2023, and that Christmas was the worst one of my entire life. 

And big sister Barb passed in July of 2019. My parents and my big sister were among the great lights in the world for me. Sometimes, without them in it, my world seems dark, empty, and bereft. I miss them especially hard at Christmas, which was a time of great joy for us as a family.

An article I read recently about grief gave some tips, and it said that you should still try to DO some of the things you used to do with loved ones who are missing. They may be gone, but you may still enjoy the thing.

A holiday event I always enjoyed with family was the Christmas eve service at St. John's, our home church. We'd all go, and we'd sit together (we took up several whole pews!), and we'd sing the good old songs.

When it got to the end, we'd sing Silent Night, and they'd pass around the light, with candles being lit, each person from his or her neighbor. We'd turn the overhead lights out and sing the last verse in the darkness, lit only by candles, and love. (One year, one of my little nephews nearly lit big sister Barb's long, blonde hair on fire; oh what a silly, funny, happy memory.)

So I reclaim the candlelight service. 
I reclaim Silent Night.
I reclaim my family, and happy memories, and love.
I look up to the stars and I imagine the ones I love gathered there watching over me: sparkles in the dark.
Happy Christmas from central Pennsylvania!
Merry Christmas, in spite of it all!