As the year waxes and wanes,
as time passes,
light rises and falls.
Life comes and goes,
hearing bird song, then silence.
the world is warm,
but days will shrink and shrivel.
the promise of warmth,
locked in ice,
day lengthens, nights slowly shrink.
North and South
seasons, polar opposites.
Hot in one hemisphere,
cold in the other.
Unless, near the equator,
seasons are less obvious,
No frozen wastes here.
World floating in space,
around Sol, the Sun, our star,
Earth tipped at an angle,
anchored by moon,
held in mutual gravity
Today, 22.12.2019, is the Winter Solstice.
Which is why I have posted a picture of a marrow or cucumber plant trying to grow on my windowledge.
What? Why? Because the solstice is when the longest night in the Northern hemisphere happens. And the plant? Because its an annual plant as far as I know. But its from a random seed my hubby put in an indoor plant’s pot a few months ago. It’s even flowered a few times. What does it prove? That we must have our kitchen lights on a lot, that we obviously keep our heating too warm.
Solstice, an ancient cerimony happens,
Druids celebrate the return of the sun.
Long nights start shortening again.
The night begins to dwindle.
Sun rejoices in its mastery.
The world spins and tips round the sun.
Canted at an angle,
South lands have their longest day.
Slowly, over months, they swap.
Till first day and night equalise.
Then Summer sun revolves into view.
Till once again Autumn equinox flies past,
and Winter comes around again.
Dark continues to increase during the winter until two thirds of the way through December.
Today is the shortest day, the 21st this year. The least sunlight, the cold drifts in under the doors. Subtle shades of black cover the sky. The dawn seems a long way away. Lights twinkle through chilled air and a steady drizzle drives into every crevice, making clothes damp and uncomfortable.
That dark is such a contrast to 6 months ago when the temperature soared to over 30 degrees and the sun had barely set before it sprang back up again. Bathing in heat then, we now sit in yellowed gloom from cheap low energy light bulbs. Colours are washed out, paint seems hard to differentiate from colour to colour.
Is it any wonder that northern lands cling to the classic religions that celebrate their most important ceremonies at this time of year.
Wassail and messiahs meld into a grand charge against the darkness. Dragging us forward into the new year and the return of the Sun.