The summer solstice eases upon us this 20th day of the sixth month with 15 hours and 38 minutes of daylight—the most of the year—as the sun takes its most northerly path in the celestial sphere, from sunrise in the northeast to sunset in the northwest.
So what to do with the longest day of the year? Look for agates in the storm-washed creek and then look for Jupiter and Saturn when the reluctant darkness finally falls after 10 p.m.
Sunrise. Share it with a cup of coffee on the quiet porch or with a fishing rod on the quiet lake as the first golden rays yawn across the tranquil waters, the silence broken only by the call of a loon.
Sunset. Should I sit quietly, watching a deer tiptoe through the corn rows or stop in the fold of ferns to query my presence. Or should I be on the trout stream, watching brookies break the surface for mayflies, and perhaps for my fascination if not my imitation?
And the long, lazy hours between dawn and dusk. What about them? I’ll watch a catbird at the bird bath, then walk a trail and make notes of brambles with green, budding blackberries.
Should I mow lawn or drive through the countryside and smell fresh-mown hay? Perhaps I’ll follow a bumblebee or butterfly, look for a walking stick—one the insect, the other a walking aid—then check the bluebird nest or pursue a myriad of matters nature is taking up as summer begins.
At 4:44 p.m. on this day, can I feel the solstice, the balance of the hemisphere, the assurance that the sun is trailing the correct path before it turns back toward autumn? Is there a solstice, a turning point, in my life? Have I reached a balance and found the right course by connecting the natural world with my inner self?
On this day, there’s plenty of time to find out.