I am rolling slowly down a hill into the deep trough of winter. It's not terrible, it's just dark and things are moving slowly, rolling the final steepest part of this descent before hope returns on the Solstice. One year on the Solstice I felt the earth's gravitational force change as the days gained more strength against the weakening night. That is what happens, the night gains strength up until December 20, lengthening her reach, ending later, starting earlier, casting the pall of winter. Then bang, night loses hold and day starts to win. A classic struggle between good and evil. I have always thought of the winter solstice as the first day of summer. I am an optimist to be sure. That first day where we know the sun will be returned to us and we will wear thin dresses and our cocktail glasses will sweat and we will go without socks for months and months. Today I put away 7 pairs of wool socks. I might have cried but I am numb, a form of mental hibernation has set in. 4 days to go. I'll double up on the vitamin D and give up trying not to fall asleep before 8 and in 4 short days this cycle will end and another one will begin and I will be well rested and ready. Cheers to the Solstice!
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Although I always look forward to the Summer Solstice, it is almost with a sense of dread, knowing that at the peak of summer things are going down hill. And then August hits and rules the land. Ahh, August. Let it be August forever is what I say in December, or January, or February, but in August I think fondly of Thanksgiving...
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