Solstice Invitation
New prompt.
I’m a sucker for old stones and ruins: overgrown rock walls in the woods (here in New England) or crumbling castles in Ireland. I like to think about who made them and why—the stories and complications. (Who’s outside the castle? Who’s on the other side of the rock wall?) It’s not easy to build with stone. It’s a commitment to a belief of some kind.
Today marks the best thing about December, the Winter Solstice, a day I can celebrate alone or with several thousand (virtual) fans of neolithic stones. I had the luck to visit Ireland’s Newgrange once, not during the solstice, but on a chilly enough day to set the synapses flying. I could imagine what it must have been like, 5,000 years ago, to see the winter sun illuminate the passage tomb. I stood squished in there with too many tourists and fought the urge to run. (Deep breaths.) We were very clever once, humans. What happened to us?
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