Showing posts with label winter solstice sunrise. Show all posts
Showing posts with label winter solstice sunrise. Show all posts

Monday, December 21, 2020

The Shortest Day


 A most welcome turning of the Great Wheel. May the return of the Light heal our world.

I won't be the only one posting this beautiful poem today. On this Solstice, when we can't gather and celebrate, listen for the echoes from the past, all down the long years, and let their rejoicing fill your hearts.

                                     The Shortest Day
                                                 by Susan Cooper

And so the Shortest Day came and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive.
And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, revelling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us - listen!
All the long echoes, sing the same delight,
This Shortest Day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And now so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.


Learn more about the author and hear the poem read HERE.

Thursday, December 21, 2017

Welcome Solstice!


The season turns and the sun stands still, having reached the limits of his south-easterly crawl.

Tomorrow he will rise a little northerly, bringing us more light.

A welcome thought in these dark days . . .



Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Something New

After my recent failure to send a holiday album of pictures to all recipients of my newsletter, The Goodweather Reports (too many, too large pictures-- some servers choked on them), I'm experimenting with this blog which seems to promise to let me add pictures at will. We'll see.

The picture above (taken from my bedroom window) is sunrise at the winter solstice. The sun has gone as far to the south as it can and now will begin its journey north, bringing with it longer days.

"Growing up in Florida and in the suburbs, she had never realized how the sun paced back and forth during the year, like a restless dog on a tether. During the winter it rose far to the southeast and skulked along the ridgeline, disappearing in mid-afternoon." ( from Signs in the Blood, the first Elizabeth Goodweather novel.


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