Homer used “rosy-fingered dawn” to describe the rising of the sun, and here in the mountains of western North Carolina the dull gray of morning twilight gives way to a fresh bright pink. If the weather holds, this is the sight that will greet Pagans as we celebrate our next holy day on the Winter Solstice.

My daughter and I will rise in the darkness, put the kettle on the stove and bundle up to stand in the back yard with warm drinks in gloved hands. When the gray smoothes to pink, we will sing some songs and welcome the sun’s “return.”

Though our simple celebration is colored with the trappings of modern life we are following an ancient impetus and performing a ritual of thanksgiving that harkens back to the earliest human times. How often do we think about the life-giving properties of our nearest star? We wear sunscreen and dark glasses to protect us from the power of its rays and the gardeners among us may squirm uncomfortably when the rainy days of early spring delay planting.

But our ancestors knew the rhythms of the seasons because they lived close to the land. They waited for the strengthening sun to warm and dry the soil in the spring. They watched tender shoots grow thick in the heat of summer and observed the daylight lessen day by day after the celebrations of Midsummer. Harvests and animals were brought in and preserved against the dark and cold of winter. And after an enforced time of rest and conservation, the lengthening daylight following the midwinter holy days was a welcome sign of nature’s continuous nurturing cycle.

The burst of light at the Winter Solstice is reflected in so many religious observances at this holy time that we can easily recognize how our ancestors felt about the sun’s return. In the contemporary Pagan community, the celebration of the Winter Solstice is less intense than Samhain, less flashy than Beltane. It is generally an intimate holiday that features good food and song and bright hearth-fire. We honor our biological and intentional families and share tales of times past and plan the months to come.

In Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, Ebenezer Scrooge is confronted by the same three spirits that challenge each of us at this time of the rolling year: the dreamlike past, the delicious present and the unknown yet-to-come. The Winter Solstice is a hinge in the year when we may, like the Roman Janus, look both forward and back. In the dark and long nights of winter, let us find some time to rest and reflect, to share a story and a song. The sun’s returning will bring the warmth of May and the glare of August but for now, it is the promise of the coming harvest that motivates us as we rise in the dark, wait through the twilight with our fragrant steaming mugs and sing a lullaby to the young sun.

Joyous Solstice!