It would be easy to not love the summer solstice, if one was a natural pessimist. The idea that from today on, the days get shorter could be a real downer. If you wanted to think of it that way. And I admit, there's a part of me that does. The glass-half-empty part of me. But the point of this blog (remember, there was a point?) is to fall in love every day, so I am going to fall in love with the longest day and not think about the fact that tomorrow will be a few seconds shorter. (Actually, I just checked the weather for the next ten days, and apparently, the sun will set at the same time every night, 8:35 to be exact. So I can postpone my depression for at least another ten days.) Daylight today is 15 hours and nine minutes long. (Compare that to the winter solstice, when the day is only 9 hours and 19 minutes long. Check back on December 21 and we will discuss this further.)
In ancient times, summer solstice was an important day in the year and was celebrated with bonfires and watching the sun rise. In more recent times, Pete and I celebrated summer solstice with our dear friends Jim and Lois for many years. Pete and I were in charge of summer solstice; Jim and Lois were in charge of winter solstice. "The long and the short of it," Jim would quip. Although our celebrations began as just dinner at a restaurant, the stakes got higher as the years went by, involving B&Bs in Pennsylvania and Vermont, the Paul Winter Consort at St. John's Cathedral in NYC, and limo rides. It is now among the many traditions that I miss since Pete died, but solstice will always hold a special place in my heart. I suspect that if Pete were still alive, we'd be heading to Alaska or somewhere for our summer solstice celebration.
I spent most of today in the garden, weeding, corralling the tomato plants into cages, picking the last of the strawberries, and bemoaning the lack of blueberries this year. This evening, I will be on the front porch swing, watching the sun set at 8:35 and thinking about Pete.
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