2025 · Winter

Winter Solstice/Yuletide 2025

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Our ancestors depended on the passage of time and seasons. And the best way to measure the seasons was by observing the Sun and the Earth’s orbit around it. The winter solstice is the time of the year when the Sun is reborn, announcing a new season.

On December 21, the day is shorter as the Sun seems to stand still at a lower elevation, making the night longer. But it is a transition period that ushers in a new season of more sunlight. Yule celebrations used to be tied with different pagan traditions, bordering on mythology and culture. Popular notions include the myth of the goddess giving birth to the Sun god. There is also the celebration of the surrender of power from the Holly King to the Oak King. Plus, the ancient festival of the Germanic people about the Wild Hunt and the god Odin is also around the same time.

All the above form the crust of the Yule celebration. But, as stated earlier, it is even more symbolic in that it helped our ancestors to determine times and seasons. Understanding times and seasons was usually the difference between life and death, food availability and famine, victory and defeat, and many other things. With the introduction of Christianity, the Yule celebration has been linked with Christmas traditions too. It’s thought that December 25 was chosen to celebrate the birth of Christ because it is the renewal period. Yule and Christmas both share certain similarities, and they often overlap as well.

:https://nationaltoday.com/yule/

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2025 · Autumn

Last Day of Autumn ~ 2025

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Blossoms gone, just leaves remain
Rich and crisp, strong and tense
Defying all that comes their way
With crackled skin and golden veins
The sun picks out their curling tips
That waver in the autumn glow.
An almanac of vibrancy
Russet, ochre, fills the skies
As I tramp upon the shady floor.
But there, up there,
I see no birds nor hear their song
Yet I can hear October’s air,
Nature’s chanter plays her tune,
Its modest whistle rising high
A thousand leaves dance in reply
Rustling, brushing, side by side
Sweeping, searching, as they blow
In one last crazy dance
Caressing as they rise and fall.
The branches’ softly swishing tails
In unison, they flow
Like a thousand batons synchronized
Or violins in forest guise
Leaves cling tight to their trapeze
Swinging madly in the breeze
I marvel at their majesty
But know it cannot last
For soon the leaves will perish
And all this will be gone.

Author: Paul Colvin

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