A holiday is always welcome, no matter when it falls.
But many of them seem to fall as randomly as the leaves that will soon illustrate for us the meaning of deciduous.
New Year’s Day, for example. What business does it have falling in the middle of winter, when nothing is new? And if in winter it must be, why not on the equinox, when the new year really does begin with sunlight’s slow enlargement?
Christmas, too. Midwinter seems an unlikely time for the birth of the redeemer of...