Category Archives: Solstice

Winter Solstice

Tomorrow at 7:04 AM EST marks the solstice — the beginning of winter in the Northern Hemisphere and summer in the Southern Hemisphere.

Here in the north, it is the shortest day, which means the darkest time is behind us; the days are going to start getting longer from here on out. I find that comforting.

It snowed most of yesterday and last night so this morning, the world outside my window is beautiful. The storm was not intense, just steady and gentle. We drove home at around midnight without feeling ourselves to be in any great danger.

This week, Dave and I have been singing in the Christmas Revels production with Revels North. We’ve been rehearsing every day for the past week and have six performances this weekend. The first two were Thursday and Friday. We still have two more today and two tomorrow.

There’s something strongly pagan about the Revels tradition, even though the music draws heavily from the Christian canon. This particular show features French medieval music, which I love–more proof that I was born in the wrong century, though I’m sure there are parts of the 1400s I wouldn’t have liked much. Plague comes to mind. And being some guy’s chattel would probably have rankled.

My favorite part of the show is the reading of Susan Cooper’s contemporary poem “The Shortest Day”. It begins:

And so the Shortest Day came and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away …

You can read the full poem on Susan Cooper’s website.

What a Goodly Thing

I took our friend, David, to the dress rehearsal for this year’s Christmas Revels production by Revels North. David is the former artistic director of the show so we had special sentimental reasons for being there (and many friends amongst the cast). It was a terrific show. I know we Revels people say that every year, but it was. Truly!

The theme was music, stories and dance from Appalachia. I have to admit, my initial reaction to the theme was “not so much” and that was part of the reason I didn’t go to auditions (that and not being sure I could live through another production week). That all flew away once I was in my seat in the Spaulding Auditorium.

The title of this post, by the way, comes from the peace round sung with the entire audience during every show: “What a goodly thing / if the children of the world / could dwell together in peace”.

The new directing team did a great job with all aspects of the show. I loved the set, in particular the beautiful quilts hung on either side of the stage. The cast was energetic and sang their hearts out — in a good way. The kid’s chorus was exceptional. And the dancing (which involved a lot of clogging) was great, too.

There are six performances this weekend, starting tonight at 7 PM. Call the Hopkins Center box office at phone: 603-646-2422 for tickets or see the web site link above.

Every Christmas Revels closes with this blessing from the Sussex Mummers Carol, sung by the chorus while encircling the audience:

God bless your house,
Your children too,
Your cattle and your store.
The Lord increase you day by day
And send you more and more
And send you more and more

For me that heralds the start of the holidays more than anything.

Today is the Longest Day

Shifty and friend, Revels North Solstice Festival, June 2005

Today I will try to remember the earth on its journey around the sun. Funny how easy it is to be confused about who’s doing what to whom in the universe. The whole notion of the sun rising and setting is false. Why do we persist in thinking that the sun does the moving rather than the earth. The earth spinning . . . the velocity of the universe . . . it may all be too much to comprehend. Makes me dizzy just thinking about it.

Poem 2-15-01

I dream of you as we ride the earth into another day. Confident, breathless, joyful. The wind has tossed our hair, the misty spray in our eyes as we gallop together bareback between land and sea.

I get out of bed slowly, bracing against the G Forces while the earth thrusts down the silver thread of equilibrium between fiery destruction and aimless wandering that defines life as we know it.

And as I watch you dress for another day, I can’t help but appreciate the beautiful dance that is you — smiling — turning to me in the face of this intricate balance that is our world.