The air in the garden felt thick and humid, with every square inch permeated by the cloying scent of elderflower and honeysuckle. It wasn’t unpleasant, so much as intense and all-encompassing: the armour-like heat encasing my body, the rivulets of sweat running down my back and each hot breath filled with overly-perfumed sweetness.
Each movement felt arduous, so I rooted myself to the spot and patiently waited. And then it came. First the blush-grey wisps of stratus that briefly shielded us from the sun’s rays, followed by the deep charcoal of a cumulonimbus. Succour.
Just a few teasing spots at first, then a smattering, then a deluge — soaking everything in sight. Fully clothed, I could feel my blouse clinging to my skin and my jeans becoming heavier, the weight of wet denim pulling towards the ground. I stood still, feeling such relief at being outdoors in a downpour. Cool droplets glanced off my cheeks as I tilted my head back as far as I could and allowed myself to be rained on. For a short while, I was in my own paradise.
This all happened yesterday, when I spent the evening at a friend’s house and we held one of our six-weekly rituals to celebrate the turning of the Wheel of the Year through the seasons. Last night was the shortest night of the year, and today — the actual day of the summer solstice — is the longest day, with the moment of the solstice occurring at 15:58 BST.
The rain shower wasn’t part of the ritual, I have just found myself gravitating towards sensory-seeking when it comes to some types of weather. I also find it a good way of feeling connected to nature and the elements around me before we start our celebrations. It doesn’t always rain — and I wouldn’t always want it to, but being barefoot and feeling my feet on grass or soil in most seasons, is soothing.
The world 'solstice' comes from the Latin solstitium meaning 'Sun stands still', because the apparent movement of the sun's path north or south stops before changing direction. I love this idea of a pause to enjoy the light for as long as possible. At this time of year in the UK, abundance can be seen all around: fields filled with crops soon to be harvested, flowers in full bloom, meadows filled with tall grasses and hundreds of different shades of green everywhere you look.
At summer solstice in the northern hemisphere, the sun is at the height of its path through the year in late June; bringing comfort, light, food, health and vitality. It’s easy to see why giving thanks for the sun — and even worshipping the sun1, as the ancient Egyptians did — was central to some cultures. The sun as the bestower of light and life is an enduring motif.
In the Wiccan tradition, the summer solstice is also known as Litha. Wicca2 (a modern pagan movement founded in the 1940s/50s in England) also references the Wheel of the Year. Although I don’t follow Wicca as my own belief system, I am fully on board with marking and celebrating the seasons as they change, through the cycle of light and dark, planting and harvest, leaves opening and falling. Each time of year has its own joys and each festival relates to what’s happening in the natural world around us.
The rituals that I take part in are mini seasonal festivals, almost always involving foliage, nature and seasonal produce. Often there’s meditation, poetry and music. Most importantly for us, they are tangible ways of bringing ourselves back into the present moment. Leaving work and everyday stresses at the door for a few hours in favour of re-connecting to the natural world has been a wonderful way to restore a bit of mental equilibrium during the past few years.
Because I love science as much as I love ritual and folklore, here’s a more detailed definition of the summer solstice, courtesy of the Royal Museums Greenwich3:
What is the summer solstice? The summer solstice occurs in June in the Northern Hemisphere and marks midsummer: the 'longest day' and 'shortest night' of the year. On this day, the number of hours of daylight are at their maximum, while the number of hours of night are at their minimum. However, while most people consider the summer solstice to be a day, it is in reality an exact moment in time that falls upon that day. This moment comes when whichever hemisphere you're in is most tilted towards the Sun. Astronomical definition of the solstice Our Earth rotates on its axis once each day, producing the cycle of day and night. At the same time, the Earth moves around the Sun on its orbit over the course of a year. However, the axis of rotation of the Earth is not lined up with the axis of motion around the Sun. Instead, it is tilted slightly at 23.44°. This tilt means that during one half of the year the North side of the Earth is tilted slightly towards the Sun and the South is tilted away. For the other half of the year the reverse is true. At the exact moment that the northern hemisphere is most tilted towards the Sun, the northern hemisphere experiences its summer solstice. The southern hemisphere, by contrast, has its winter solstice. About six months later, the northern hemisphere has its winter solstice while the southern hemisphere is at its summer solstice. These key points in the year, along with the equinoxes, help to determine the seasons on Earth.
Clear blue skies and bright sunshine are universally considered natural mood-lifters. Add to this the birds that are nesting and brooding their young, the pollinators darting from bloom to bloom, and the explosion of colour and perfume. Summer solstice is a time of year that’s filled with joy, for good reason.
The Summer Solstice is also tinged with sadness because it marks the beginning of the waning part of the year. This is the reminder we never want to hear as we feel that we’ve barely scratched the surface of summer before the background awareness of shorter days creeps in.
This year I’ve decided that instead of panicking at the speed at which another year is travelling, I am travelling with it willingly. As I collect seeds from flowers that have now had their moments of glory, I remind myself that the sun is still there, clouds or not, darkness or not, it’s there, and will be there long after I’ve gone.
Solstice blessings.
The Stations of the Sun by Ronald Hutton
The Wheel of the Wiccan Year by Gail Duff
https://www.rmg.co.uk/stories/topics/summer-solstice