“And now we welcome the new year, full of things that have never been”
― Rainer Maria Rilke
Hello again dear readers, writers and curious beings ~ I’m not sure how these words for Winter Solstice will tumble at such a late hour if at all but I cannot let this day pass without trying. After all, evidence suggests the Irish have been celebrating it for at least 5,000 years.
The word “solstice” comes from the Latin word solstitium, which means “sun standing still” a momentary pause at a most southerly point before shifting to north again.
And, lighter days…
The colour of mid-winter has achieved its raison d’être today, the grey, the damp and the dreary reached a surreal monotone depth so profoundly perfect it was worthy of praise. So praise it will have because it wouldn’t have mattered a mite, not the tone, or the colour, nor the cold and almost darkness that has refused to lift even a corner of its blanket, I refuse to be derailed from thoughts of lighter days ahead.
Not today.
It began rolling in through foggy cloud and drizzle, hovered in semi gloom, departing again in the same winter robes as it started. Remarkable perhaps only to anyone willing and waiting to be amazed by all of natures hidden charm, by anyone waiting for this day.
I thought it possible during these few minutes that dwindle before accelerating light begins, before the world spins it’s first bright new spin to a longer day, to write profundities, a few words in thanks for another seasonal year passed with kindnesses and amazement, as well, for latent new days yet to be made.
But the hour is late.
Too late for cleverness of word.
A lethargy of creative sparkle anticipated… words will not form, perhaps they were never meant to?
I held the day until the last fragmented remains slipped into a vision of white formless shapes filled with countless hours I don’t yet know, lining the edge of a field, waiting to be scattered.
And because these were not visions I’d gathered in readiness for today, nor the visions I held in dreams. Because I had an inkling that it would be as it was and because I would not change that even if that power were mine, I falter…
And, instead, I remember something extraordinary that appeared from ripples of the ordinary on a different this day of December.
A simple beauty of winter sun on water, enjoy… 30 seconds of calm.
“I live my life in widening circles that reach out across the world.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke
Happy Winter Solstice.
✿ with love ✿
I am trying to work out how to put in writing what you have created here Susie. You start by saying you can't let this day pass without trying to write despite the late hour.
"A lethargy of creative sparkle anticipated… words will not form, perhaps they were never meant to?"
And in that sentence it feels like you just allow and let go. You become the solstice itself. The pause, in which everything is created. What you write here is just beautiful. A gentle, misty, profound flow of what is Right Now, in that sun standing still moment.
Thank you. Jo 🌟
Profundities, indeed!
A lovely combinations of images, and images painted in words.
Happy Christmas, Susie, to you and yours