By the Nostalgic Wolf
The sun stands still, they say- high and bright, as if holding its breath. The longest day, wrapped in birdsong and petals, in the shimmer of grasses and the hum of life.
And I, old as the shade and quiet as the stones, watch it unfold as I have so many times before.
The solstice is not just a celebration of light- it is a moment of knowing. That time moves, yes, but not always in haste. That growth can be silent. That beauty can be bold, and fleeting, and eternal all at once.
This is the day the Earth stretches her limbs and sighs, “I have bloomed.”
The bees are busy. The swallows dance. And the foxglove leans just slightly toward the sun, as if offering thanks.
But within the brightness lives a whisper- the days will shorten now. Slowly, kindly. The wheel always turns. And so the solstice is not just a crown of flowers- it is a lesson in presence. Be here, it says. Be now.
So wherever you are on this day of gold, lay your hand on the warm stone, lift your face to the light, and remember:
You, too, are blooming.
