After Solstice

The days had lengthened. The sun had journeyed northward towards the point of convergence. There, briefly, the sun stood still, then subtly directed its path southward again.

Solstice: a turning of the year, a turning of the light. Waypoint for our nomadic sun.

A few hours later, already, daylight had shortened. The first day of summer holds the seed of summer’s end.

This is all to be expected.

But this year the turning of the year birthed more turnings. On the heels of the longest day, a hot, wild wind tore through the valley and up and down the hillside. A thick, tangible heat descended. Then: overcast skies and drizzles of rain came. A supermoon rose.

And finally: the dry heat of summer arrived, steering wheels fiery to touch, steaming asphalt, silky water streaming through my hair. Evenings, I open my windows to this darkening world, let the cool come in.

And inside me, inside, the turnings, subtle shifts this way and that. Who can tell what is happening? A lengthening, a shortening, a dawning?

2 thoughts on “After Solstice

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