Happy solstice, dear readers. I celebrated the shortest day with a long walk (a day early). This time of year usually feels like it calls for introspection, but introspection in motion was even better this year. I walked twenty miles on the local rail trail, flat and cruisy (boring if I wasn’t so recently charmed by it).
Twenty miles in midwinter was long enough that the stars were still bright in a clearing sky when we started and the sun was slipping below the treetops when we finished eight hours later. In between, we savored the slow dawn and soaked in a relatively rare winter day of clear blue skies.
There were a handful of us, a mix of existing and new friends, which made for long, interweaving conversations. I came home deeply tired and filled up in a way that I didn’t realize I needed.
It’s hard to get long days of fresh air when the days are so short. Or more truthfully, it’s so easy not to make them happen. But I need them just the same, and it’s good to be reminded of that.
It’s also good to be reminded that there is time, if we just take it. This December has meant less bustling and more long walks and visiting friends and meditating. And a marathon making session this past weekend to get packages out the beginning of the week. We still don’t have a tree, but we have plans to change that on Saturday. The necessary things will reveal themselves and they will be done. Or so I’m trusting.