Sunday, June 21, 2015

Solstice Schmolstice. Pfft.

every year on this date, i have endure the mystical solstice fluff-talk of those who fancy themselves naturey spirits talk. WHAT'S THE BIG DEAL? it's a day, the longest day, incrementally small in its magnitude when one considers the length of daylight leading to and from it.

a lonely wilted bouquet from another prairie a few nights ago

the lexical concept humans attribute to this day was absent from my cognition as stood out in a prairies and oak savannahs of the Southern Kettle Moraine this eve. i was surrounded by Whip-poor-wills, in stereo...and out of sync, the singular Chuck-will's-widow calling up the hill and the occasional interjection of a nocturnal Field Sparrow or Wood Thrush. at least one American Woodcock was still flight displaying, though no peents were heard. sounds traveled to and from my ears, periodically pulled in by my cupped hands.


i gazed across the serene fields where lightening bugs twinkled like eyes closing in around me. above the moon was joined by Jupiter with its four visible moons and Venus to its side appearing partially obstructed. this celestial production was punctuated by a single falling star in the remains of the dwindling twilight.

sensory awe? yes. mystical? no.

i simply gravitated toward this place close the day in darkness and light.

"aug-aug-aug" calls and wing claps of Chuck

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