Sun Stands Still

Hello friends,

We are just past the solstice. Here in the northern hemisphere, it means we had our longest day of the year. For me, both solstices and equinoxes are times of contemplation. These celestial events create natural pauses in the year for me. I pay attention. How quickly am I moving? Does it feel like the right pace? What can I take pleasure in? What tasks are still at hand?

The ancients called the longest and shortest days sol sistere, which means “sun stands still.” At these times of year, the sun appears to stand still in the sky and then slowly shifts direction. I notice this in many different ways.

Dawn comes from the northeast corner of the city instead of what I think of as due east. We had rain last week, followed by heat. The flowers, bees, and flies are busy. The spiders are at their work. The birds wander, beaks open, trying to cool down.

And the crows have been waking up at false dawn. Around four thirty in the morning, they begin calling to each other, preparing for their days and spreading the morning news. This is different from their evening calls, more casual. At evening time the crows like to call and gather en masse for a large meeting before roosting for the night.

And all throughout the day, the corvid babies complain, wanting to be fed.

One thing I love about our neighborhood crows is that they seem to care for their young communally. If a chick is yelling from one of the Douglas firs or maples, I often see multiple crows flying around, ready to care for the baby.

Our back yard birdbath has corvid visitors all the time. I appreciate seeing them go from a mated pair to a trio when the baby becomes a fledgling.

Life is co-creation. It takes a village to care for each other, whether we are humans or crows.

Life is also filled with intensity and pauses. Work and rest.

As the sun stands still in the sky this week, I re-committed to my own practices of stillness. I’m increasing my morning meditation time, and bracketing it with quiet breathing and stretching at night.  I’m taking stock of the support I have and the support I can offer. As I am enmeshed in my own creativity—writing another novel—I glory in the creativity of nature.

What does the solstice mean to you? How are you navigating the year?

Best wishes – Thorn

There’s another installment of Magic, Creativity, and Life up on YouTube, this time with activist, writer, and director Cat Brooks. It should be up on podcast sites in a few days (there was trouble with my upload service this week).