I have every reason in the world to celebrate. Tomorrow is
the solstice, the summer solstice in this northern hemisphere of Teal Orb on
which I live. The longest day of the year…which means that every day after
tomorrow the light will be waning. I know I will not really feel the growing
darkness until late summer, though...perhaps not even until the autumnal equinox.
For now, I am celebrating.
I feel the light in the world around me this week:
I wake up with the sunrise, which also means I get to hear the
prayer of birdsong before my toes uncurl on the floor.
Climbing a hill last Friday (which just so happened to be
the thirteenth), we watch the always.miracle of a tangerine moon rise up overfull,
fiction-sized, over the crest of the eastern hills that border this valley.
I learn that one way
to experience balance is to hold two contrary extremes (the polarized
positions) simultaneously; balance naturally results.
The dark green of flourishing vines, the darker green of oak
trees, the burnt yellow grass, tall and swaying in the breeze on an iridescent
sunny day: everything seems to shimmer with clarity.
Finches darting close overhead call attention to the nest;
once with four eggs, then with no sign of egg or shell or hatchling; now a
repopulated nest with five spotted eggs – perhaps viable this time.
Knowing that a final
outbreath is what I signed up for, still I feel the impending sense of loss as a hospice patient transitions a bit closer to her concluding inhalation. This too
is light, affirmation that we are all “in this together” and that those who
suffer also get to rest.
A butterfly, buttery yellow mosaic, lands on the remaining dark pink flower in the heat-wilted garden
bed.
All the letting gos
and stepping ups and bearing forths are coming to fruition in the form of
all.needs.provided; what was given is now received and the cycle of give and
take is once more confirmed, made manifest.
Sun, bearing down like a weighted blanket on my exposed
skin, wrapping and warming and comforting, smooth as the peace in which my
heart now swims.
There really does not have to be a reason. Much less every reason. The simple embrace of a
turning of the earth, of a season, of the particularly striking shine of light
and obscurity of shadow on leaves as I type this: this is enough. I am grateful. Solstice
blessings to you and yours…
All blog images created &/or photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: "©2014 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."
