Solstice Storm
by Mary Dixon on
Monday, December 22, 2008 at 07:47 PM
Solstice Storm
Winter arrived officially at 8:04 a.m. Atlantic Standard Time yesterday. The morning dawned crisp and clear, a gentle salmon pink light low on the horizon setting a beautiful backdrop for the hoar frost coating the trees and bushes as I rose at 7:30 to take Angus the dog for his morning relief.
I bundled up in layers of longjohns and fleece against the minus 12 degrees Celsius temperature and we ventured out, Angus naked but for his furry coat, across the crunchy snow. There was no wind, not a cloud to be seen. Some crows were up early moving lazily from one spot to another. One sat silently, high in a stately poplar, a deep black silhouette against the softness of the sky. A ruckus had erupted in the chicken coop before we got near, breaking the stillness, and as we approached Angus barked, just once, but sharply. Silence returned. “You tell ‘em Angus!” I said.
On our way back up the driveway Edward emerged from the house to do his morning routine, taking a clean filled water dispenser down to the coop. A few scoops of organic layer mash for feed, fresh water, a quick check for any eggs in the nesting boxes, and then out and through the greenhouse door to open the hatch from there to the coop and let the little gang into their own “sunroom” for the day.
When the weather had first turned cold and we were finished with our 8 by 8 foot greenhouse for the season, Edward moved it off it’s wooden floor onto the ground next to the henhouse, cut a flap in the plastic at the end and connected it to a small hatch from the coop. Some straw and woodchips spread on the ground and a bit of gravel for scratch, and voila, we had a sunroom for the chickens on the colder days. The extra light should help to keep them laying through the darker months when they can’t often get outside.
“Happy New Year!” Edward offered behind steamed-up glasses as he joined us near the house. “Lovely day for a new beginning,” I answered. For us the Winter Solstice is an appropriate New Year marker, the turning point where the shorter days gradually lengthen again, although perhaps Spring Equinox could as well be a New Year with the hopes of new stuff pushing up through the ground after a period of dormancy. There’s a New Moon coming up on the 27th of December, and those are considered an auspicious time for new beginnings, drawing on the energy of the moon as it waxes for momentum to make resolutions for the days ahead and to start new projects.
The gentle weather of yesterday morning was short-lived however, as a storm front started moving in late in the afternoon. A Solstice party at a friend’s house that was due to begin at 5 was moved ahead to 3:30 to help guests avoid the worst of the storm. We arrived around 5 nevertheless, on bare roads with only a light flurry just starting and after a pleasant visit and a wonderful nosh we and others headed out around 8 into what already looked like a blizzard. We drove carefully home on ice and snow-covered roads, going back through town to avoid the main highway which likely had more blowing snow and less visibility.
Through the night our bed trembled as gusts probably exceeding 100 kilometeres per hour shook our hilltop home. Edward had stoked the wood stove well before bed but the draft from the winds left barely a coal by morning. Today we heard from Edward’s colleague down the shore that a neighbour’s barn roof had blown off in what were said to be gusts up to 190 kilometers per hour! Hurricane force winds!
Angus was not phased by the weather today as gusts over 100 kmph continued throughout the day. While Edward plowed us out after canceling his appointments for the day, I let Angus amuse himself leaping and digging furiously in the snow for over an hour. We do not let him off the leash due to his beagle-like inclination to follow his nose toward deer and rabbit trails, so Edward has come up with a great solution to give us a break from holding a leash for him to play: A snow anchor. Sort of like a sea anchor in the sense that it does not keep you fixed in one place, Angus’ snow anchor consists of an old car tire and a long line to tie him to it. He has as much mobility as he can find the energy to drag the tire but it slows him down enough that we could catch him if he headed for the woods or the road, and frees up our hands to do other chores outside. And it serves the extra purpose of wearing him out sooner! Alas it does not keep him headed into the wind!
At first he slid and skidded all over the lawn, the tire flying along behind him on the smooth crusty snow and his hind end finding itself in front of him a few times! Then his digging urge took over and eventually he found a technique to allow him to dig through the inch or two of icy crust -- he pounced with both front paws put together to punch a hole in the snow, into which he jammed his face right up to his ears. He seems to think there are mice hiding underneath but so far he has turned up nothing.
Meanwhile Edward spent hours on the farm tractor pushing snow, a laborious task with this hard coating. At the bottom of the long driveway we discovered three tall spruce trees had fallen in last night’s wind, one broken off several feet from the ground and two uprooted. One lay across the driveway but the tractor was able to push it out of the way. More to cut up for next winter’s woodpile. We were fortunate not to lose electric power as many people in the province had.
On Saturday, the eve of the Solstice, we had held our own celebration at We Are One Farm, a small gathering of friends to share a ritual we created a couple of years ago to recognize the return of the light of longer days, to tune in to the cycles of nature and to tune in to ourselves and assess where we are at this time. Due to the bitterly cold wind that night we moved our ceremony from the outdoor bonfire to the indoor wood stove, and the cosiness of the log house lit by only a few mini lights held a special presence. Some of us who meet regularly to drum and journey held the space by drumming softly, others joined in with rattles and shakers as Edward spontaneously decided to call the four directions as in native drumming gatherings, to open the circle and honour the cycles of the seasons and the power of the directions and their symbolism.
Then we took turns crouching or kneeling in front of the fire, presenting our intentions written out earlier or sent energetically through our thoughts. We had invited those who wished to participate to write down first what actions or decisions they had taken in the past or past year that they felt did not honour their path, things they regretted or felt they needed to forgive themselves for. They were asked to toss that paper into the fire to release and let go of those regrets. Then they had been asked to write down what they were grateful for in the past year and the ways in which they had honoured themselves and their path. They offered up thanks by tossing that piece into the fire. Finally we had invited them to write down their hopes and dreams for the coming year, the things they wished to manifest in their lives. They tossed those in the fire too with intention to send those prayers out to the universe.
After each person did this they lit a candle and placed it somewhere in the room, gradually bringing back the “light”, the light of the longer days, the light in their hearts, the light of hopes and dreams. We drummed and whooped and turned on the lights of our Solstice/Christmas tree and shared a wonderful potluck meal. Although we will share a traditional Christmas turkey dinner with friends here in a few days, for us it was really this Solstice celebration that carries the energy we wish to bring into the new year.
Tonight, as the wind and more flurries continue to whirl and whistle around our hilltop, albeit somewhat abated, we are thankful for our warm wood heat, as well as electricity while 50,000 others are still without. Icy roads and high winds have made the linesmen’s jobs difficult today. I am very grateful that there are people who will do that job when required, keeping our lights burning, our stoves cooking, our hot water heating, our email flowing and for those of us on wells, the water itself pumping into our house!
There is leftover deep-dish tourtiere for dinner along with a few remaining treats from the potluck. Angus is mellow after his day’s exercise and the cats just sleep, sleep, sleep. Life here is truly blessed, with time to ponder and write about these moments a huge gift in itself.
Happy Solstice, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year! May you be blessed with warmth, love, peace, good health and a full tummy. May you be blessed with a light in your heart that burns with the awareness of your own essential goodness. May you be blessed with friends and family who will reflect that light back to you. And may you be blessed with the gift of gratitude for all such blessings, big and small, that remind you that all is truly well, no matter what.
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Gilly
Posts: 2
Posts: 2
Reply #1 on : Mon December 22, 2008, 22:08:25
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Reply #2 on : Thu January 08, 2009, 09:33:43