And happy birthday to my firstborn, David. He was due on June 8th, but since we already had a family birthday on the 8th—my mother’s—David waited. And waited. I went into labor on the 19th, but that was not his day, so on we went until we were half an hour into that magical, mystical day that has since the dawn of time been marked, not by a number, but by the power of the sun.
We don’t really celebrate the day nationally in the U.S., but I understand it’s a big deal in many countries in Europe Europe, especially Scandinavia, where summer is short.
My Granddaddy Pierson immigrated to the U.S. from Sweden in the late 19th century. Maybe David came into the world celebrating his Swedish blood.
Then, too, he celebrates his Lakota blood, and this is the beginning of Sundance season. My husband’s people have celebrated in this way since time beyond memory. It is a powerful, moving, life-changing experience, much like the birth of a child.
So I’m searching out images for this post, and what I’m seeing in addition to honoring the Spirit is joyful celebration of fertility and life and community. Summer’s been a long time coming up here in the North Country this year, but, hooray! Here it is! Tomorrow night we’ll celebrate summer solstice at our neighbor’s annual potluck garden party. I hope you’ll be celebrating, too.
“The summer night is like a perfection of thought.” –Wallace Stevens
WHAT THE HEART KNOWS is my latest release. Next up: REASON TO BELIEVE.