AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES, today–the Winter Solstice
AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES, today–the Winter Solstice–is the shortest day of the year. This is true in all the neighboring fields and woods and rivers as well. And all over the Northern Hemisphere. So one could say the phenomenon is rather widespread. But do you know what that means? That means that tomorrow isn’t. The shortest day. Not anymore. That sunlight will be returning and increasing. At first by only a few seconds per day, so that you barely notice it. But then, gradually, by several minutes a day, so that it is eventually–at the Church O’ The Pines–an increase of nearly 7 hours!
Well, That’s a fine thing. Not that we don’t enjoy winter and all its frigid beauty. But daylight is nice. It helps things grow. And some folks have/are SAD–Seasonal Affective Disorder. And they need to see golden light and feel the sun’s warmth on their skin. And sometimes the things that daylight helps to grow are not just bloodroot and wild ginger and trillium and pines; but hope. And confidence. And belief. And possibility.
So on this ‘darkest day’, I am thinking of light. And celebrating it, and its imminent return. And noticing that in the dark night of our nation’s political solstice—even in this bleak and terrible week—things are beginning to change and break free. To become clearer. As more and more people see the light. It may not seem like it. Only a few seconds of extra light at first, perhaps. But it is happening. The calling out of the *president for his stupidity, cruelty, corruption, fraud, desperate grasping and evident panic. From places its never been called out before. The retreat and resignations of Republicans and MAGA politicians. The widespread repudiation of the Reiner remarks. The ridicule of Trump’s economic ‘speech.’ The disastrous Chief of Staff interview. The obvious and intentional failure and contempt in the ‘release’ of the Epstein files. The condemnation of and growing resistance to ICE. The plummeting poll numbers. And more. The American people are not happy. And they are less–not more–afraid.
That is what happened, historically, with Winter Solstices. The end of fear, of encroaching darkness. On the darkest day, people looked forward to and celebrated the return of the light. And with strength and faith, patience and courage and resolve, we may do the same.
Below are some favorite images of light here at the cabin-in-the-woods, in the Church O’ The Pines. Darkness, of course, enables us to see and appreciate the light. A candle or a lamp by a bedstand. A sunrise over a frozen river. A cabin with golden windows in the first faint rays of dawn.
It is a dark day. But there is light. It is here. It is returning, and it will grow stronger. Happy Solstice Day. And Good Sabbath…