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Summer Solstice Readings

Photo: A gently sloping mound covered with green vegetation. In the center, large stones surround the mound on either side of a narrow opening through which the rising sun can be viewed as a bright golden glow.

The longest day, the summer solstice, takes place in late mid June in the northern hemisphere where I reside (June 20 in 2024). I remember as a child thinking how strange it was that people in the southern hemisphere had summer when I had winter and vice versa, which Ellen Dudley touches on in her work below. 

Poets have celebrated the way the darkness and light sit perfectly balanced, in equipoise, and the lushness of the summer season's heart. I share a couple of lines here; follow the links to read the whole work.

The image above is of Bryn Celli Ddu, a chambered Neolithic tomb constructed around 3000 BCE in alignment with the rising sun on the summer solstice. I share it in honor of my Welsh ancestry on my maternal grandfather's side.

"Summer Solstice, Batticaloa, Sri Lanka" by Marilyn Krysl

Surf sounds like erasure, over and over.
I lay down and let go, the way you trust an animal.

"Summer Solstice 2006" by Jim Brown

The earth, the sun, in far off temporal frames
we cannot imagine,


Everyone here believes that the roses
are blooming only for them,

"Solstice" by Ellen Dudley

On the first full day of summer the sun is up
the sky as far as it will get and now it will
head south to warm the Antipodes, where today
it rains and  gales blow up from the Antarctic.

"Summer Solstice" by Rose Styron

Suddenly,
there’s nothing to do
and too much—
the lawn, paths, woods
were never so green
white blossoms of every
size and shape—hydrangea,
Chinese dogwood, mock orange
spill their glistening—

"Solstice" by Tess Taylor

How again today our patron star
whose ancient vista is the long view

turns its wide brightness now and here:
Below, we loll outdoors, sing & make fire.

"Solstice Litany" by Jim Harrison

Solstice at the cabin deep in the forest.
The full moon shines in the river, there are pale
green northern lights. A huge thunderstorm
comes slowly from the west. Lightning strikes
a nearby tamarack bursting into flame.

"Summer Solstice" by Ellen Bass (entire poem here)

If you stand at the edge
of the sunrise and shout
with a full-hearted pleasure,
hurling out cries of delight,
over and over, your joy,
like stones from a ledge,
will cause circles to widen out, reach
the horizon, light the morning.

For some readings at the other end of the year, visit my 2023 winter solstice collection of readings and my 2022 winter solstice collection.

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Reruns: June Posts Worth Revisiting

I started my reruns in August 2023, taking trips down memory lane to reread old posts and find the ones that hold up when I read them years after first writing them. This gives me some nostalgia bumps, like reflecting back on a great bike touring trip I took with my sweetie in 2018 and reading posts I wrote after moving to Seattle in 2012.

Going back to my older posts also reminds me how much I was thinking, reading, and writing about transportation well before working professionally in that realm. Starting to bike commute, creating Spokane Bikes, and participating in local transportation work groups really laid a foundation for the career path I'm now on. 

June keeps rolling from National Bike Month in May to provide plenty of inspiration for riding, if not always writing. The 2018 bike tour links below pick up where the ones in May's reruns left off.

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A Year of Poems: June

"And what is so rare as a day in June?" Quick, name that poem!

Nope, I couldn't either. I knew the line but not the poet or the poem. Thanks to this month's research I now know it's by James Russell Lowell, from "The Vision of Sir Launfal." I'm sure you've read it, right? I'm the only one who hasn't.

"from The Vision of Sir Launfal" by James Russell Lowell

No matter how barren the past may have been,
'Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green;
We sit in the warm shade and feel right well
How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell;
We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing
That skies are clear and grass is growing;

If you want to read the entire "Vision", here's the Project Gutenberg copy of the whole book of Lowell's poems that includes it. I have to say this part is the most accessible in the work, although the two lines right before the famous line are worth sharing:

No price is set on the lavish summer;June may be had by the poorest comer.

As with poetry about May, a lot of June poems are full of flowers and floweriness. I chose to skip most of those. June is a changeable month, with thunder and rain as well as roses and sunshine. 

I've chosen a few lines to share here to tempt you into following the links to the full poems. 
"After Many Springs" by Langston Hughes
Now,In June,When the night is a vast softnessFilled with blue stars,
"Wildflower" by Stanley Plumly
It is June, wildflowers on the table.They are fresh an hour ago, like sliced lemons,with the whole day ahead of them.
"June Thunder" by Louis MacNeice
The Junes were free and full, driving through tinyRoads, the mudguards brushing the cowparsley,Through fields of mustard and under boldly embattledMays and chestnuts
"June Rain" by Richard Aldington
Hot, a griffin's mouth of flame,The sun rasped with his golden tongueThe city streets, till men and walls shrivelled;The dusty air stagnated.
"June Wind" by Wendell Berry (presented in its entirety here)
Light and wind are running
over the headed grassas though the hill hadmelted and now flowed.
"June 21" by Robert Beverley RayNow it is completely summer.
The hot windy days, haze and white skies,Have given way to something cooler,
"On June Blossoming in June" by Karen An-Hwei Leein glowing strokes of  late June lightfringed by the noise of peninsula traffic on the harbor            laced by grease and silt from the machinery of  life—the sea isn’t far away though only gulls could spy it from here—
"What Is June Anyway?" by David BudbillAfter three weeks of hot weather and drought,        we've had a week of cold and rain,just the way it ought to be here in the north,        in June, a fire going in the woodstove
"Twenty-first of June" by Elton Glaser
Air that blisters in the sun;Already I can feelThe sweat
Slide down the face of summer andPool in the steamy streets.
"In the Moment" by Billy CollinsIt was a day in June, all lawn and sky,the kind that gives you no choicebut to unbutton your shirtand sit outside in a rough wooden chair.
"From a Country Overlooked" by Tom HennenThere are no creatures you cannot love.A frog calling at GodFrom the moon-filled ditchAs you stand on the country road in the June night.The sound is enough to make the stars weepWith happiness.

A Year of Poems

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