Christmas Eve is a time of anticipation, of reflection, a time when the hurry to do last minute needed things quiets into hush. That’s true whether the Christmas story is part of your faith, or not. Whether the Christmas story is part of your story of faith or not it is also a holiday of travelers, both people today making long and short journeys, and in another time shepherds coming down from the hills, wise men coming from from far away, and a husband and wife seeking shelter on a night in Bethlehem.

Máire Mhac an tSaoi is an Irish poet, diplomat, and scholar who in her eight decades and counting has often been one who breaks new ground both for those writing in Irish, and earlier in her career, for women writers in Ireland. One of her best loved poems is Oiche Nollag, Christmas Eve, She reads it in Irish to go along with the images in this video. The words in English are part of the visuals.

Though the decorations went up a little later than usual this year, and in general felt scaled back compared to previous years due to horrific floods in the suburbs (and, of course, other parts of the country), Bangkok is such a fun place to be during the winter holiday season.

Wait: aren’t most Thais Buddhist? Do they celebrate Christmas?

Yes, about 95% of Thailand’s population are Buddhist, and yes, they still celebrate Christmas anyway. Well, that’s not entirely accurate: they celebrate the commercialism of Christmas, the cuteness of Christmas, and the unending photo ops of Christmas. The fun parts. (Besides, hasn’t Christmas sort of become somewhat of a non-secular holiday anyway?) The actual day itself doesn’t really mean much and isn’t a formal holiday: it’s business as usual for most stores and restaurants, and everybody still goes to work.

Still, Christmas is everywhere: the music is on repeat in what feels like every single convenience store, shop, and restaurant, sales galore in the shopping malls, and best of all, central Bangkok is decked out to the nines–and camera-toting Thais absolutely eat it up.

CentralWorld Plaza, a place you know I harbor a mild fascination with if you’ve been paying attention, is one of my favorite places in the city to take it all in, and specifically to watch the locals unabashedly strike their cheesiest poses with the holiday props. This year’s display has been dubbed “The World of Happiness” and is centered around teddy bears. Amazing.

This one is outdoors in the plaza facing Rajdamri Road:

This guy is just inside the mall entrance:

Awww, aren’t they cute?

Of course, on the other end of the plaza is a Chang beer garden, though I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s a bit disappointed that this year they’re only stocking watered-down Chang Export and not the good stuff, Chang Classic. (The Chang factory suffered significant damage from the floods, so I think there’s still somewhat of a shortage on Classic.) Singha, Federbrau, and Tiger beers usually set up pop-up beer gardens alongside Chang during November and December, but again, the floods are likely to blame for their absence.

These guys, below, are part of the “Sweets Land” display kitty corner from CentralWorld at Amarin Plaza. I’m still not sure what that little green guy is supposed to be, but it doesn’t matter: he’s cute and you can take your photo next to him, and that’s essentially the essence of Christmas in Bangkok.

This Texas town has a serious sense of humor.

The URL MargaritasForChristmas.com goes to the holiday video below, plus a list of happenings around the ATX (as we call it) during December.

Singer/songwriter Shelley King‘s “Christmas in Austin” song plus many others are on a holiday benefit album for HAAM (Health Alliance for Austin Musicians) – one more reason why Austin rocks.

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Should you be traveling in Ireland this winter season, or in one of the places the far flung sons and daughters of Ireland have made homes, from Wyoming to north Florida to Western Australia to Cape Breton, from Norway to Inverness to Fairbanks, to you’ll see see lights set in the windows, especially on Christmas eve.

A light in the window to light the traveler’s way: that’s a tradition which goes back into history. long before the time of Christ. A story told in Irish families, though, is that the light in the window is to light the way for the Holy Family. Mary and Joseph were out on the road, seeking a place to stay that night in Bethlehem. On that night their search is remembered, as is the traveler out on the road these days. In earlier times, when hospitality was perhaps more respected that it is these days, it used to be the custom to leave the door unlocked on Christmas eve, to bank the fire, and to leave a loaf bread and something to drink out on the table so if a a traveler weary on the road sought shelter and rest, he or she would find that and more. I’ve sometimes wondered if that’s where the ideas of leaving cookies and milk for Santa Claus had its start.

When I was small we had this really heavy glass holder into which we’d put what was known in our house as the Christ candle. It had a thick base and was clearly hand blown, not machine made at all. That made it all the more interesting to watch the dancing flames of the candle through the wavy sides of the glass, which had a slight tinge of steel blue. We always placed an ivory colored candle in this holder.

When I was small, I liked knowing that candle was burning, welcoming, keeping watch, and I liked hearing the stories, both of the houses in Ireland which would have lights in their windows too, and of the travelers who might be out on the road. Later, when I was old enough to go to midnight mass, when we came back around the corner of the road that brought us home, I’d always see that candle in the window, and it always gave me a smile.

I inherited that heavy glass candle holder some years back, and kept it in use each December. Even when it cracked right down the middle one year, I glued it back together and it went on shedding its Advent and Christmas light for a few years longer. Finally, though, it told me it was time to go.

I do not still have the blue glass holder for the Christ candle, and I do not live in that house by the curve of the road. There will be a light in my window this Christmas Eve, though, and as it welcomes me home from midnight mass, I will still remember the traveler’s stories, and the story of the Holy Family out on the road. I will think of homes and lodgings and places all across the world with lights in their windows, and smile.

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“Isn’t it beautiful,” I sighed, looking out at this scene from my table at Hotel Molokai‘s open-air restaurant, Hula Shores. My dining companion, a local, gave me a funny look, and agreed — in a way that made me realize she was just being polite.

Jaded, I thought, she sees this scene all the time.

I was wrong. The photos that follow were taken in the next 56 minutes, although things really started happening in the last ten minutes. I didn’t edit them at all — there are a few things I’d like to do with them in terms of composition — but the point I’m making here is about the color.

Everyone knows that Hawaii’s got some spectacular sunsets; fewer know why.

Conventional wisdom holds that spectacular sunsets come from air pollution, which isn’t really true. For the most brilliant colors, you need clean air. (You can prove this to yourself if you take off in an airplane at sunset on a hazy day — compare the colors you see from the ground, where polluted air tends to hang, to what you see at cruising altitude.) You also want a certain amount of moisture in the atmosphere to produce light scattering clouds, a cirrus and altocumulus are best.

The exception to the clean air rule is volcanic ash, which Hawaii’s also got — but only at high altitude. That’s what produces a “volcanic twighlight”, about 15 minutes after sunset — also known as an afterglow.

Read more about how to make a beautiful sunset here. But first look at what happened to this already lovely sky:

48 minutes later:

Four minutes after that:

And two minutes later:

Previously: Why tropical waters are so damned blue.