We made it! Welcome once again sun – stretch out your arms, as it is time once more to unfurl your bright flag and march towards summer and all its splendor!

Specials at Bintliffs

I have to say, I think this is the first year that I’ve actually taken some time to think about the solstice, and what it represents. My mom and I were trying to brainstorm some suitably solstice-y things that we could do to honor the day, but the best we could come up with was to celebrate with brunch at Bintliff’s American Cafe and a stroll around Portland. I’m sure if Apollo or any of the other sun gods could have had their say about celebrating the day, they too probably would not have turned down granola-crusted french toast, and delicious eggs florentine benedict. Mmmm…

Breakfast with mom

Not having honored or really even thought of the solstice previously makes me realize for myself just how out of tune I’ve been for most of my life with the flow of the seasons, and how the earth sets its own schedule independent of our weeks, days, minutes and seconds. Is it a coincidence that my newfound interest in farming has brought me back into connection with the movement of the sun and seasons? I suppose it doesn’t hurt that a few folks have made a point of reminding me.

To make up for my delinquency all these years, I for the first time in a long while decided to try my hand at a little writing, and put together what is I hope a suitably solstice-y poem:


The solstice could easily pass us by
were it not for the heart – the part of us
that recognizes the length of days,
how the minuscule window must give way
to reopening. Already darkness
leans against the door, presses its blue face
to the glass, looking in sadly at us
and at our eyes lit up like tarnished lamps.
This is their moment of turning: when ying
meets yang; when Persephone groggily
turns over to glance at the clock, before
joy has even set in.

                                      Pauses last so long
in memory, and then that fades too.
Do not say this is sad: Nothing can end
that begins again. I must imagine
the snowy trees behind the drapes now,
and how the sun is kissing them goodnight
whispering, “I will see you soon, dear heart.”

Ahhh, and the inner romantic comes out. Thanks Neruda, for making me want to use the word “blue” to describe everything.

Today could have been just another day, and I gotta say: it’s nice to feel connected to these larger events in the world that occur independent of us. I suppose it didn’t hurt to spend the day with folks I love, nor to cap off the day with some sriracha dusted chips at my cousin’s incredible restaurant, The Salt Exchange. That’s right: sriracha dust. The Salt Exchange – check it out if you’re in town!

Dusted chips... mmm...

May my love reach farther as the sun does in the coming days and weeks,

P.S. Another photo of fun times with mom for good measure. It’s good to be silly.

Me and mom and candy canes

P.P.S. Those candy canes were GROSS. Note to self: never purchase candy canes that are “spoiled tropical fruit” flavored. Was worth it though.

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