It seems much of the Northern Hemisphere is collectively irritated at the cold and lengthening darkness. Every year, complaints roll in as if the Earth has personally offended us by tilting its northern half away from the sun for an entire quarter of the year. Yet this tilt, this predictable and essential cosmic rhythm, is exactly what propels many natural cycles. Hard freezes keep insect populations in check. Blueberries require certain hours of freezing temperatures to set fruit. Shortening days tell deciduous trees to drop their leaves, and after the solstice, longer days signal countless other plants to grow once more.
Not so long ago, winter was not simply endured but understood as a period of necessary rest and renewal. Surviving the season required preparation: stockpiling grains, drying fruit, canning vegetables and preserving meat. For our ancestors, winter solstice often marked the last major feast before deep winter, a time of excess before the lean months ahead. They made wine and beer in autumn to be ready for these celebrations, and slaughtered livestock, not only for festive feasting, but because animals could not all be fed through the winter. Thankfully, the solstice no longer marks a time of potential famine for most of us. But it remains an opportunity to honor nature’s cycle, and can be a time of rejuvenation for plants, animals and humans.
The winter solstice is technically a single, precise moment when the North Pole reaches its maximum tilt away from the sun, about 23.4 degrees. The very word “solstice” comes from the Latin sol, meaning sun, and sistere, meaning to stand still, referring to the moment when the sun appears to pause low in the southern sky. But solstice celebrations begin the evening before and can last all night. Once, some celebrations lasted 12 days. This year in Humboldt County, the longest night stretches from 4:52 p.m. on Dec. 20 to 7:37 a.m. on Dec. 21, lasting 14.75 hours.
The long nights of winter give us time to think about our intentions for the coming year as we welcome the gradual return of light. We have the choice to greet these hours with dread or with celebration.
Across cultures and centuries, winter solstice has been a time of awe, transition and renewal. In ancient Rome, the festival of Saturnalia honored the agricultural god Saturn (also the god of time) with feasts, games, gift-giving and social role-reversals. Originally spanning Dec. 17-19, it eventually expanded through Dec. 23. Romans also observed the festival of Sol Invictus — the Unconquered Sun god — celebrating the sun’s symbolic rebirth on the solstice.
Mistletoe held deep significance for many ancient cultures: Romans, Celts, Druids and Norse peoples. It was considered sacred and was used in rituals of fertility (yes, sometimes put above the bed), healing, peace and protection. Today’s custom of kissing under the mistletoe is a subdued echo of older, more elaborate customs.
Celtic legends describe the long night of solstice as the moment when the Holly King (darkness) yields his power to the Oak King (light). Other traditions view the holly tree as a symbol of renewal because its berries ripening in winter and as a symbol of protection because of its sharp leaves.
Even in ancient Egypt, solstice reverence appears in the alignment of several temples with the year’s southernmost sunrise. Across time and place, people have honored this turning point of the year.
Whether or not you incorporate religious or spiritual elements, the winter solstice offers an opportunity to slow down, reflect, and reconnect — with yourself, with others and with the cycle of the natural world. Here are a few ways to bring meaning and fun to the longest night:
Historically, the Yule log was a massive piece of wood that could burn all night — possibly for the entire multi-day festival. You can light a fire in the backyard, a fireplace or wood burning stove. If that isn’t accessible or appealing, you can simply light candles to symbolize the lengthening days.
Make something with your hands. Oranges traditionally symbolize the sun, and dried orange garlands are gorgeous, plus they smell good. Wreaths of evergreen, or a pinecone (or more likely a Douglas fir cone) ornament can reconnect you with the plants outside your window. Think about your desires and intentions for the coming year while moving your hands and infuse your craft with them.
Share a meal with loved ones. Leave your phones behind, eat by candlelight and celebrate warmth and connection in the darkest time of year.
Try a burn-and-release ritual. Write down habits, fears or burdens you’re ready to let go. Put the paper in the fire, or just light it (safely, outside), and allow the smoke to carry away your load.
Take a winter walk. Feel the stillness of the season and the damp air — hopefully not the rain. Take a breath of gratitude for the returning light, for the body that took you there or whatever comes to your mind.
For those looking to celebrate in community, the Eureka Library is hosting a solstice ornament-making event and the Humboldt Coastal Nature Center is offering a grounding solstice yoga class. More events throughout December can be found in the Journal’s calendar.
However you choose to mark the solstice — alone or surrounded by friends, quietly or raucously — the season deserves our acknowledgment and appreciation. Enjoy the merriment, the darkness and the coming light.
Hollie Ernest (she/her) calls Humboldt home, where she works in botany and forestry. At the moment, she’s riding her bicycle around the world, currently in China, pedaling east.
This article appears in An Absence of Abalone.