The magic of midsummer

Last night, 11pm. I feel the urge to be in the garden. The air is warm, the sky is a deep, beautiful sapphire blue, and near the horizon, the final glow of daylight is just fading away. At first, the evening star, Venus, sits alone in the sky - but then, keeping my eyes steady, I spot another star, and another, and another.

It’s so quiet. I realise it’s rare I’m outside at this time. For much of the year I’m in bed at 9, but these days, I don’t want to sleep. The earth’s energy is peaking as we approach the solstice, and I can stay up till midnight and still wake at 5, barely tired.

I hear the faint babbling of the nearby stream. During the day it’s drowned out by birdsong, children’s laughter or cars on the nearby road, but all are silent now. A tawny owl hoots: ‘whoo-hoo, whoo-hoo’.

All around me, nature is in its full abundance. Trees fully clothed with leaves, and flowers in their splendour. My garden is a mass of dark shapes but I can just make out the delphiniums and foxgloves swaying in the gentle breeze. The lupins have almost finished, but the hollyhocks are growing tall, reaching upwards towards the sun’s light.

I sit, absorbing the magical atmosphere, and the stillness. But then, I begin to notice tiny noises - a rustle in the bushes, a snap of a twig. Are these the faeries, known to make mischief on midsummer nights while the veil is thin?

Solstice falls on Sunday: the longest day, the height of summer. It’s joyful, but also bittersweet as the dark will now begin to slowly return. Many times before, I’ve gone to the moors for the summer solstice, where many people gather at the stone circle to celebrate this special night. There’s drumming, chanting and dancing - a beautiful, wild, pagan celebration. This year, we’ll be marking the day (and Father’s Day too) with a picnic by the river with strawberry cake and elderflower cordial, and hopefully lots of paddling.

I look up at the sky again. After just a few minutes, many more stars have appeared. I notice one tiny speck, moving swiftly through the heavens. Surely, it must be an aircraft - although it seems too high and far too fast. I follow it closely as it zooms halfway across the sky, before becoming too faint for my eyes to pick out anymore. A shooting star! To my amazement I immediately spot a second, travelling in the opposite direction, before eventually fading away.

Reluctantly, I finally head to bed.

Photo by Isaac Mehegan on Unsplash