Summer Solstice has come and gone and Missy Moon has climbed high enough tonight to show us her lacy petticoat. The "Mead Moon", or honey moon has turned full for lovers. Shakespeare wrote of this midsummer's night and I'd bet money Mab and her crew are dancing the light away.
I've always loved the Solstice-- summer or winter. Just the word 'solstice' conjures antiquity, a time when we were so interconnected with nature, so intricately woven, rituals celebrated the effects. However, the summer solstice is my favorite even though it's somewhat bittersweet. It marks the tipping point for our longer days to toggle back toward winter, when the sun's arc swings low and away and we ride this big blue marble into woolly sweaters and the evening star arriving at 5:30pm. Maybe it's just the kid in me, but there's just something magical about considering the 'longest day of the year', something mystical about the sun going down so close to bedtime.
For now, though, that sweet, full moon drips its honeyed light into the woods and lightning bugs are playing 'slips' in the garden. We have weeks and weeks of daylight and an equinox smack in the middle to soften the arctic blow.