After the Longest Day

I wanted to write something uplifting to mark the solstice yesterday, this highest point of the year in the southern hemisphere, but I haven’t been able. 

2016 has been a very challenging year for various reasons, and though I am proud of myself for continuing to post here, and I have achieved much, I have also come to realise that there are so many other things that I need to work on too—not least my health, which has been sliding downhill for several months.  

Thus, I will be taking a short break from blogging to enjoy what I can of the remainder of the year, to rest, to work on some creative goals I have fallen behind with, and to read as much as I can through the hot and lazy days of summer (including my one concession to the festive season, Jeanette Winterson’s latest book, Christmas Days: 12 Stories and 12 Feasts for 12 days). 

A page from Christmas Days

In the meantime, here are some of my offerings that I am most proud of:

My Beginning. 

An exploration of one powerful, and strangely beautiful, bird, and how fire and water are kindred: Fire in the Belly of Vulture.

The many beauties of autumn: Autumn's Gifts.

A poem of green union: Tree Woman.

A post for today’s opposite, the winter solstice: Wintersong.

A piece about creativity and illness that surprised me with its popularity: A Relationship with Illness.

A reminder that anything, even not being able to write, can be the subject of writing: Being the Mountain.

A meditation on darkness, which I got such a kick out of writing: Endarkenment.

And a call for new stories, so that the Earth can be saved: Telling the New Stories.

Thank you to everyone who has stopped by to read, and to all my commenters. I wish you an enjoyable festive season, whichever way you do or don’t celebrate it.

I will be back some time in the new year.