The shortest day, celebrated generation to generation since time immemorial. Marked by past festivals of differing names and by different cultures all reverent of the turning season and the nurturing of the soil and plotting of crops to suit the sun and the moon.
A beautiful sunset and howling winds rattling down the chimney stack and making the grotty gas fire in the front room rattle like a wailing banshee she is just playing at the moment, playing chase down any little hole or cavity she can enter and then whoosh she is off again to dance another dance
Tonight's sunset was beautiful and no matter how hard I tried to take some photos with my mobile phone what I was seeing through the lens and what came out on the phone really bore no similarity. You can just about see the pink glow with the trees in silhouette.
The wheel has turned again and we have a new moon to boot.
They have not really come out as well as I would have expected. Never mind back to the drawing board.
Solstice Greetings to all of you who mark the return of the sun after the darkest light we all march to the sound of our own particular drum.