After an hour of meditation this morning, a spell of gardening, a toast of elderflower champagne (!) on the steps with my gardener as we admired our work, I set off for the beach.
Each summer solstice my favourite thing is to create an offering on the sand, to greet this turning point in the seasonal cycle.
This year, the pohutukawas are at their most splendid. It is a 'mast' year, which occurs occasionally, and has brought about abundant flowering of native trees throughout the country.
The rain has stopped and the sky is cloudless. A playful breeze whisks away the heat from the sun, and down at the beach it's still fairly quiet. This week before Christmas is always a special time to be here, knowing that I have let go of deadlines and rushing about, and left the busy crowds back in the city.
Here, even the computer has slowed down. It will take over half an hour to load this post, even though I've limited myself to only three photos. Right now, slow is OK.
The wheel of the year is turning. For those of you in the north, the light is seeded at winter solstice. For those of us in the south, the dark seed has been sown, even as the warmth is increasing and the waves are beckoning. As the wheel turns, our light becomes your light, and your dark becomes our dark. We are all connected. Happy solstice, wherever you are.
