The End of Dark Days

It seems like they've only just begun. But in fact the southern solstice happens tomorrow morning at 6:08 a.m.

It always feels like we slide into darkness much more precipitously than we stumble out of it. But that's just how it seems. In fact, by the end of next month, I will have (ahem, my garden will have) a whopping 44 more minutes of daylight than I do today.

The Bay Area's pagans, crunchies, hippies, wiccans, earth mothers, faeries, and Berkeley residents all have big parties planned. I could include gardeners, too.

I know I'm celebrating by planting out my wildflower starts. I've already started in the northern half of the garden where the sun's rays can reach over my yard's southern fence. As the sun moves back up the eastern horizon, I can extend the planting southwards. My garden is so small, and I am so obsessed with it, that I garden down to the inch and monitor the sun's tiniest movements in the sky.

The cold rainy season lasts until mid-March usually. Sometimes into April. Very rarely into May.

I wish for lots of water this year to grow those roots deep and strong for a good show this spring.