The day of sight seeing and catching yp ended back over at Livingston Brook Farm, watching the fireflies come out around 10pm as the sun finally started to set for good.I had to keep checking the time because even though I know the days are so long come late June, I need proof. Winter was dark, cold, and sunlight was rare. This weather today felt too good to believe.
When it was time to leave, I hugged everyone goodnight (my parents are renting a place near Patty's place) and drove back to the farmhouse. My road home was along all western-facing roads and I could watch the sun finally set for this last best night of Summer. I know to many people this is the "first day" of summer, but not to those of us keeping the old Calander. This is the first whispered promise of fall. Every night will slowly get a little longer from here on out. Every candle lit or bonfire blazing will be one of hope instead of celebration. Before tonight winter was over and the sun celebrated in hours of warmed skin and green earth, baby animals and fireflied nights. But come the next few weeks the summer will change from the lust of July and August into the slow swagger of early Autumn.
It's the longest day of the year. Bless it.
I feel like I came a long way. Winter was so hard. It was hard mentally, physically, and financially (welcome to every farm story). I remember being scared of Christmas's approach because I still had to figure out how to pay Octobers mortgage. Somehow the farm found a way. With the help of a good wood stove, saving, planning and a few thousand miracles I got those house payments in. I am still behind, and I am still worried, but at least I know now that worries from the winter solstice were mended and I got through it. Now, months later having made it from the darkest nights to the longest days I feel comforted. The sun did a full dance, and the worry is still there, but at least I know my stress is fresh. That sounds silly but it matters. I may be behind but October is in the black. I figured it out then and I'll figure it out now.
I am grateful for the challenge and stress Cold Antler gives me. It offers meaning. People live their whole lives wishing for something more real than fear or pain. I have that here in measured daylight and farm chores. Together they make up this holy bit of land carved into a mountain. I'm so grateful for the horny turkeys, the long setting sun, and the challenge of keeping my home and a creative life. I may be constantly scared but at least I am on a mission. At least I feel alive.
I welcome you June. Thank you for this light.