Hello, friends! I’m stepping in for Matthew this week.
This Sunday, the 21st, is the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year in the northern hemisphere. For us, that means we’ll see just under nine hours of daylight, a full six and a half hours less than we experience at the summer solstice in June. The day marks the true astronomical start of winter, which can be a tough reality to face when we have already weathered (no pun intended) some very cold and blustery weeks. For many of us, indeed, winter can be a challenging season. It presents practical difficulties, with tasks as simple and necessary as getting to work or the grocery store made treacherous by icy roads. Winter’s deeper trials, however, can hit us in those parts of our lives which are harder to address. We’re more sensitive to seasonal changes than we always realize, and the lack of light in winter can trigger alterations in our brain chemistry- our sleep patterns can shift, our moods can darken, and social isolation can feel more profound.
Given the hardships winter can present, it comes as little surprise that so many winter solstice traditions have at their heart a celebration of light, joy, and togetherness. For ancient Romans, Saturnalia, a holiday honoring Saturn as god of agriculture, was a weeklong festival of food, drink, and liberation from social order, and the Juvenalia, which fell around the solstice, as well, celebrated the children of Rome. Yule, in northern European regions, was a feast heralding the slow return of longer days, with the eponymous Yule log burning for days, providing warmth, light, and hope for the coming season. St. Lucia’s Day commemorates a saint whose defining feature is wreaths of candles. Shab-e Yalda, an Iranian holiday, sees celebrants staying up all night, reading poetry and making wishes, to greet the dawn after this longest of nights. For those of us in the US, Christmas, Hanukkah, and New Year’s Eve gatherings are all marked by light, food, friends, and family- no matter how we honor our particular traditions, the solstice reminds us of the strength and solace to be found in community.
While I don’t dismiss the true difficulties of winter, be they logistical or emotional, I confess a deep fondness for the solstice. There is something profound in the ancient and wide-ranging rituals focused on this day, on their emphasis on renewal and resilience. There’s a beautiful phrase from the poet Rumi which captures so gracefully the quiet potential of this season: “Don’t think the garden loses its ecstasy in winter. It’s quiet, but the roots are down there riotous.”
I wish everyone a happy, restful, and promising solstice, and I hope this winter Skidompha can be a warm refuge on cold days for all who need it. Happy reading always, and I look forward to seeing you at the Library soon!
Chloe Deblois
Adult Services Librarian
Skidompha Public Library