The year has slipped through the solstice in a flurry of darkness and wild winds here in Scotland. Last night the wind tugged and pulled at the corners and edges of the house, squeezing through gaps in windows and singing forelorn songs down the chimneys. This morning there is silence and stillness, time to catch my breath, and perfect timing to bring some peace and focus to what has been a very busy and unsettled time. Sitting sipping warm tea, watching the darness of the long night melt softly into the pale blue of a winter dawn, with the soft notes of the dawn chorus singing in my ears feels just perfect.
It has been unseasonably warm, with no sign of snow down here in the lowlands, although the mountains have atleast seen a sprinkle of the white stuff. Despite all the decorations, traditions and busy cheerfulness of the season, it’s only this morning, sitting in the stillness and the darkness that I feel connected again to the year, the seasons and the turning earth. I have finally landed in midwinter, very slightly late, but finally contemplating the passage of the year. To find that tiny point of light and stillness, to find my centre, this is the best gift for me in the dark time of the year.