Winter Solstice

Sonja Houpt |

12/22/2007 - 12/23/07

First Place, Children’s Essays
Sonja Houpt’s recreation of her attendance at a winter solstice concert at the Lensic Theater engages a number of senses: We see the cold night sky, feel the warm air and the crush of the crowd in the auditorium, and share the audience’s impatience as well as hear the sounds of the violins rising from the stage. Bravo, Sonja!

My shoes click on the brick walkway under my feet. The noise of the pedestrian-filled street resonates in my ears as the dimly lit Plaza settles down for the cold winter evening. My mom grasps the white and green tickets in her chafed hands. I stare blankly at the gray cloud cover above. Beams of moonlight peek out at me, emitting light down on us and adding sparkle to our eyes. As we approach the amazingly designed edifice, I marvel at its presence. It stands out from the shops next to it, which look minuscule in comparison.

As my mom and I enter, a rush of warm air fills my lungs and stings for a second. I gasp at how crowded the entryway is. We start to make our way through the herd of people moving as slowly as cattle. Hastily, we stumble onto the larger carpeted area, relieved that we're out of the large crowd.

The two staircases on each side of me that lead up to the second story look like they popped out of an old English castle. I stride up them. I stride up them, eager to get to the top as soon as possible. When I land at the very last step, I peer down and try to spy my mother among the crowd. She finally catches up and we glide into the theater, our backs up straight and my tan and dark brown, knee-length coat draped over my arm.

As we emerge from behind the wall, a cacophony of sounds echoes slightly, reminding me this room is vast. Hesitantly we locate our row of seats and slip past people, sometimes making them stand up from their seats. I plop down when we reach our dark maroon chairs, letting out a sigh of relief. I can almost feel the many people who have sat in this seat so many times before. The violins behind the bright red velvet curtain are ephemeral and make us giddy for the show to begin.

The curtains are leisurely pulled back and everyone stops talking, as if they are at a loss for words. A tall woman in a long purple dress strides onto the stage, her high heels clicking on the floor beneath her as she walks. She stops at the microphone on the left-hand side of the stage and adjusts it with a confused look on her face.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Lensic's annual winter solstice concert." Her proud voice echoes through theater, leaving everyone to await the start of the music. She begins to talk of winter solstice and how it is the returning of the light. She wraps it all up with "... and please enjoy the concert. Thank you." We all clap, secretly happy that she is finally finished.

Suddenly, all the lights shut off except the one shining directly on the orchestra. The violins start to gently play, only to soon be joined by the flutes. The cello tags along and mingles slowly through the song. The bells jingle a high-pitched harmony. Once all the instruments on stage are playing, the tempo speeds up.

I close my eyes and pictures dance through my head, swirls of color, the snow that the cold winter season brings, and clouds of fuchsia, aquamarine and mandarin. The performance fades into its finale and everyone shoots up from their seats and wildly cheers.

I slip on my coat and we begin to make my way to the door. The snow awaits us outside. Winter solstice has begun.

Sonja Houpt, 12, is in the seventh grade at the Santa Fe School for the Arts and Sciences. She lives in Santa Fe.