written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Saturday 20 June 2020

Summer Solstice

It falls to me to blog about superstitions on this, the longest day of the year, so what else would I regale you with but tales of summer solstice folklore and ritual?

Solstice derives from the Latin sol stitium, literally sun stopped (or stilled), and represents that point in the seasonal rounds when the earth's changing inclination means the sun is at an extreme (either southerly or northerly). For inhabitants of the northern hemisphere, the summer solstice, (as the inclination reaches 23 degrees north) is when we celebrate our longest day/shortest night - which this year happens to fall today, 20th June. The further north one travels, the lighter it remains for longer and there are places (for instance in Canada, Russia and Scandinavia) where the sun never dips below the horizon.

It has always been regarded as a magical event since pre-historic times. Not only was it a signal that the next phase in the agrarian cycle was commencing, it also became the catalyst for many religious celebrations to do with sun-worship, and appeasing or celebrating the gods and goddesses of fertility and the harvest. It was also thought that devils and evil spirits were particularly active. As a result lots of customs and superstitions grew up which - despite the most repressive efforts of the Christian church - still survive into the 21st century.


It has long been a custom to light bonfires on Midsummer's Night, even though it's the lightest and often the warmest time of the year. It is the practice in some places to leap over the flames of the bonfire as this is thought to bring good luck. Furthermore, folklore has it that the ash of Midsummer bonfires, if sprinkled afterwards on the farm or garden, will ensure bountiful growth for the coming year.

In some places, the summer solstice was counted as the start of a new year and in many cultures the day was celebrated with feasting, music and dancing.

More than that, the summer solstice has long been associated with fertility cults and the getting of wives or husbands. There was much collecting of herbs and wild-flowers, weaving of good-luck charms and attempts at divination. St. John's Wort (also known as chase devil) would be worn to ward off evil. Orpine (also known as live-forever and midsummer-men) when cut and planted in clay, was meant to foretell good or bad luck in bed depending on whether it leaned to left or right as it wilted! If a maiden were to walk three times round the holy place at midnight sprinkling Hempseed and then look over her left shoulder, the first man she set eyes on would be her likely husband. If a man wanted to make himself irresistible, he needed to pluck Fernweed at midnight. I suppose some of this is echoed in the love-potion plot of A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Still today, people in northern territories celebrate the solstice by lighting bonfires, holding midnight feasts, making love garlands, playing music and dancing for joy of the magic of a special event in our annual round, even if the original motivations for doing so are somewhat anachronistic or shrouded in mystery.


To celebrate this summer solstice, tonight I'm feasting on chips with egg, washed down by a few glasses of Chianti; my bonfire is a bergamot-scented candle and my music is Neil Young's newly released 'Homegrown' album. When it finishes, I'll watch the light dim and listen to garden birds proclaim the defeat of darkness.

Sun Stopped
No sousing this Midsummer's Eve
for our solstice sun, afloat defiant
upon burnished waves. Well past
our ritual retiring time, we gaze
in wonder once again at such a sight
as heaven aglow like day with light.

Pale fires along the beach lend
pine-tinged fragrance to the breeze.
Birds choir incessant in the trees.
There must be happy magic in the air.
Hopeful lovers pluck at Fernweed,
wistful maidens scatter Hempseed.

Tomorrow all might seem a dream -
the way a sprig of Orpine leaned,
that leftward glance to one's intended;
but until this not-quite-night is ended
let's leap the flames and chase the devil
joyous in our sun stopped revels.

Thanks for reading, S🌞

140 comments:

Jen McDonagh said...

I thought I'd set my alarm so I would watch the live streaming by English Heritage of the sunrise at Stonehenge this morning, but it didn't ring! It's a sign - not as Druid as I thought! I love the photos and the poem though. Happy solstice Steve.

CI66Y said...

Very good Steve. Is it too late for me to rush out for Fernweed? :)

Dani Merakli said...

Fascinating 👍

Lesley Harrison said...

It's a curious thing is it not that as summer starts so the days are getting shorter! This was most interesting. It's a good thing to be in touch with the rhythms of the natural world.

Rod Downey said...

An interesting read and I like what you've done in your poem :)

Tom&Toes said...

Love the old ways! We would have had a bonfire, but it was raining. We liked your latest poem Steve.

Anonymous said...

It's an interesting blog and a lovely poem. Aren't you being a bit hard on the Christian church though?

Deke Hughes said...

Thanks for sharing Steve. As readable and instructive as ever, I'm sure the folklore of Midsummer's Night/Day is extensive and this is just a tantalising taster. I love your personal celebratory coda before the poem, very droll; and the poem itself is neatly turned. Bravo. Here's to a happy stay-at-home summer!

Diana Maartens said...

Magical :)

Lizzie Fentiman said...

Did you see it's reached 100F in Siberia this week 0 inside the Arctic circle? And 23 hours if sunlight a day? Extraordinary. A great blog as ever Steve and I love some of the lines in your poem :)

Harry Lennon said...

I like the sense of atmosphere and craziness your poem summons up, as well as the sense that it knows it for what it is. "Joyous in our sun stopped revels" is a great line. Happy heatwave Steve.

Unknown said...

Lovely poem

Sarah Fritz said...

Everything is illuminated! A most intereting blog and poem :)

Anonymous said...

Very good that. Fascinating blog, stunning pictures and a great poem. Happy Midsummer to you, Mr R.

otyikondo said...

Re: St John’s Wort. It is not there by accident. As it happens, the event is celebrated oop north (in Finland and across the Nordics) under the banner of the feast of St. John the Baptist (24th June, today), though in Finland and Sweden years of collective bargaining negotiations between employers and unions have caused it to be marked in the calendar on ”the nearest Saturday to June 24th”. ”Midsummer Eve” in Finland and Sweden (which is when all the good fertility ritual stuff happens) was celebrated on the 19th this year - about as early as it CAN be. The Danes and Norwegians actually stick to the 23rd/24th axis. The Baltic States also celebrate their own variants of St. John rather than the actual solstice. So the religious overlay on top of the old pagan festival has hung around - the event is named Juhannus (FIN), Jaanipäev (EST), Sankthansaften (DEN, NOR), rather than the local equivalents of ”Midsummer”, and the actual ”longest day/shortest night” is NOT a holiday in these parts.


F O'Jay said...

An interesting blog. I remember seeing The Wicker Man movie years ago. Was that set at summer solstice? I can't remember, just have images or fertility rituals and of course the big blaze! I love your poetry.🔥

Anonymous said...

You may wonder if your blog links just disappear into the ether, so be assured I read everyone and look forward to them especially in difficult times like these. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. Thank you for sending them out every week. it is appreciated.

Bruce Paley said...

Top blogging :)

Steve Rowland said...

Will, thanks very much for the good insider knowledge. I knew there was a link to St John (the Baptist?) and his supposed birthday/ saint's day but was a bit vague as to the details.

Fran, my memory of The Wicker Man is a bit hazy as well but as far as I recall, it was nearer May Day than summer solstice. I have a memory of the school kids all dancing around a maypole.

Anon, thanks for the vote of confidence. I shall keep banging out the blogs.

Nigella D said...

What a lovely poem Steve :)

GV (Vance) said...

I love superstitions but I'm not superstitious myself. Is that strange? I very much enjoyed this blog, your poem and all the comments above.

Rochelle said...

Very good Steve! Was it your mention of A Midsummer Night's Dream that led me to hear a Shakespearean ring to your lovely poem?

Charlotte Mullins said...

Just read and enjoyed your latest - with thunder and lightning breaking all around at mid-day. I love (and envy) your use of words. It's a fine poem.

Ben Templeton said...

That's another mighty fine piece of writing Steve.

Anonymous said...

Sweet!

Georgia Steele said...

Well, summer solstice seems a world away after two days of storms and showers, but that's a warming read for sure. Thanks for a few rays of sunshine. Stay well. 🌞

Beth Randle said...

Very good Steve. I love the solstice poem.

Ray Willetts said...

Thanks for sharing. I'm pleased to see the 'imaginarium' hasn't gone into lockdown

Jon Cromwell said...

Where did the summer go? Ha ha ha! Good blogging Steve, makes me want to read more about pagan rites and I think your poem is excellent.

Saskia Parker said...

That's a magical poem.

Stu Hodges said...

Very good Steve. Beautifully written and illustrated as ever and I think you've captured the slightly supernatural spirit of the occasion in your splendid poem. 👍👍👍

Anonymous said...

Most enjoyable. I believe that the interest in all things related to such events has increased with the popularity of 'new age' thinking in recent years - a desire to be more in touch with the mysteries of the natural world.

Luke Taylor said...

Well done Steve. Another fine poem.

Celia M said...

Lovely poetry (and blog). Thanks for sharing.

Sahra Carezel said...

It made me happy just reading it.

Emily Blythe said...

Outside it's absolutely tipping it down in the most miserable start to July imaginable. It's hard to credit this is summer. That said, I do love the blog and your beautiful solstice poem. Well done Steve.

Mac Southey said...

As others have said, a really lovely poem, with a real sense of occasion and unreality about it. I hope you're keeping well.

Nick Ball said...

Nice one Steve. I really like what you've done with your poem.🔥🔥🔥

Jools said...

I love this. 👍

Romy Lowenthal said...

I much enjoy this Steve. One commentator asks if you are hard on the Christian Church but I remember from my studies that in my own country the Protestant Church tried hard to ban all such festivities and made it illegal to have solstice bonfires and such like.

Ruth Maxwell said...

Your blog was very interesting and I thought the poetry was sumptuous.

Kylie Davenport said...

Wonderful!

Grant Trescothick said...

Fabulous poetry Steve. When is your book coming out????

Jambo said...

Kosmic! 🌞

Jay Daley said...

It's an interesting blog and a beautiful-sounding poem. Where did that summer go?

Jazmeen said...

Wonderful writing and magical poetry.

Gareth Boyd Haskins said...

Thanks for sharing Steve. Sorry it's taken me a while to get around to reading and replying. Your blog is fascinating. I wish I'd got to the poem first, because I then tried to read it as if I didn't know the background info, so see how it might come across but then I figured it's so beautifully done, what the heck! Bravo that man.

Anonymous said...

What a wonderful read.

Frida Mancour said...

You make 'chasing the devil' sound such fun! I love the poetry.

Lynne Carter said...

You've got a lot of comments! Well deserved for your way with words. That poem is brilliant.

Thelma Robbins said...

Sun stopped makes sense when you think about it like a yoyo or a bunjee because when it reaches its farthest point it looks as though it's briefly stationary before it goes into reverse. I know that;s not what literally happens with the earth and sun but your fascinating blog made me think about it in a way I hadn't done before. Sorry if that all sounds obvious. I look forward to these posts, they're about the most intelligent and engaging things I read each week. Bless you.

Mary Jane Evans said...

I love this Steve, beautifully written and illustrated, with a touch of your own inimitable humour, and a wonderful poem. ❤️

Ailsa Cox said...

When I was a child, the 'land of the midnight sun' seemed like a fabulous place inhabited by sprites and Moomins. Reading your blog has brought that magic back :)

Simon Pickford said...

Even in the 18th century in the north of England bonfires were lit on Misdummer's Eve "to drive dragons away". Henry Bourne, a Newcastle curate, is recorded as having written that the dragons, "incited to lust through the heat of the season did frequently, as they flew through the air, spermatize in the wells and fountains." - that froma book by Samantha Riches, should you wish to read more!

Jacq Slater said...

Absolutely lovely to read. 🌞

Anonymous said...

Enchanting is not too strong a word. Beautifully wrutten and illustrated.

Bridget Durkin said...

That's awesome.

Anonymous said...

Absolutely superb. Great writing :)

Natalija Drozdova said...

Your blogs are always so well written and this poem is beautiful. What touches me most is some of the throwaway remarks you make. I love this one: 'and listen to garden birds proclaim the defeat of darkness'. ❤️

Anonymous said...

Such a lovely poem :)

Naomi Parker said...

I agree with the comments above. That is a delightfully turned poem.

David Spencer said...

I've only now caught up with this - missed solstice by a month - but what an uplifting read on a misreable, wet July day. Kudos to you for a fine blog and an equally fine poem.

Nikki Stevenson said...

Your blog was a fascinating read but the poem is something else, quite exquisitely done.

Anonymous said...

Wonderful writing :)

Melanie Strike said...

Your blog for me conveys a magical quality, like the innocent excitement one felt as a child on Christmas Eve. The poem is beautifully constructed and phrased. I love it.

Anonymous said...

Terrific! So well written.

Trace said...

I loved the blog and your sun stopped poem is brilliant! 👍

Kevin Sterling said...

Excellent Steve!

Anonymous said...

Genius poetry - that's fabulous Steve.

Zoe Nikolopoulou said...

A captivating blog, beautifully written and illustrated. I intend to read more about midsummer rituals. I love your poem as well.

Anonymous said...

Superb writing and an utterly lovely poem.

Delphine D'Allareux said...

Magically mystical! 👍👍👍

Sabina Losi said...

Splendid! So that's where solstice derives from. I love the folklore and the beautiful poetry. ☀

Phillipa Sharpe said...

How lovely. Your blogs are a real find.

Anonymous said...

Your poem is a thing of beauty (and joy and defiance). Brilliant.

Matt Wilson said...

Enjoyed your blog and the sense of enchantment your poem conjures up. Very good.

Anonymous said...

Sometimes I read a poem and think 'gosh I wish I'd written that'. Sun Stopped is one of those. It's a perfect piece.

Alistair Bradfield said...

Very good hocus pocus folkery and poetry.

Ludmilla Feganova said...

Beautiful writings. We are still lighting midsummer fires all years in Siberia. We have short summer times to enjoy.

Anonymous said...

I'm reading this on a grey, wet August day in England with the promise of sunny days so far away. We've not had a great summer, let's be honest, so your blog brings a little cheer into dark times. It's a lovely piece of writing. Maybe next year?

Sheila Keeble said...

Wonderfully atmospheric writing.

Merrillee said...

Great poem, steeped in the fertile magic of the event it celebrates. ☀☀☀

Anonymous said...

Joyous!

Pamela Whitlock said...

Such a fascinating read! Your lovely solstice poem is almost incantatory (if that's the right word). Magical. 🔥

Hayleigh Wootton said...

Beautifully atmospheric writing.

Anonymous said...

This made fascinating reading and leaves me wanting to know more, the sign of a good blog. I'll do some wider reading online. I loved your poem and the photographs you've used.

Peter Fountain said...

Yes, that's very good!

Brett Cooper said...

Of course it's all arse-about for us antiopdeans. Winter just on the wane.

Anonymous said...

Class! ☀

Felicity Goodwin said...

Magical indeed. This was a great read. I enjoyed the blog, thought the photographs were beautiful and the poem fantastic. I loved 'burnished waves', 'heaven aglow', 'pale fires' - so well observed, and the whole sense of the mystical occassion summoned up. I suppose I have pagan DNA :)

Myra DeJonge said...

Wow, I very much enjoyed that. Your writing is as luminous as the events you described, highly evocative. ☀

Anonymous said...

Lovely!

Jenny Leadbetter said...

Beautiful writing, casts a lovely spell. ❤️

Curtiss Gallego said...

Fabulous stuff. Just the concept of sun stopped is arresting enough. A great blog and poem :)

Jenny Carstairs said...

Fascinating lovers' lore, and you've made a beautiful poem fit for the occasion. Yes I'm late discovering the blog but just wanted to feed back my appreciation for a wonderful post.

Cerys Jones said...

I loved your entertaining account of summer solstice rituals and the stunning pictures. Your sun stopped poem is simply beautiful.

Anonymous said...

Spookily beautiful.

James Deakin said...

What a great blog and poem. So wonderfully atmospheric.

Caroline Blake said...

A brilliant read. May I share with my sun-loving sisters? ☀☀☀

Lucy Jane Parkins said...

What a fabulous blog and a lovely, blissful poem. I'm sad to see summer over for another year, but happy autumn equinox to you.

Jim Kelly said...

Skilfully done. A delight.

Martina Connors said...

Wonderful! ❤️

Anonymous said...

I love your poem. It's a beautiful thing.

Ruth O'Brien said...

That's a brilliant poem. 👍

Tiff Warner said...

A lovely read! Fabulous sun-stopped blogging and poetry. ☀

Anonymous said...

Simply magical ❤️

Hannah Wrigley said...

This was forwarded to me by a friend. I'm most impressed. Occasionally I come across a poem that strikes me as a perfect piece. It doesn't happen very often but your Sun Stopped might just be one such. Are you published?

Kim Clark said...

Magical ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Anonymous said...

Exquisite. I ❤️ it!

Jane Trelawney said...

Summer has gone, but this was a happy reminder. Lovely poetry.

Anonymous said...

Wonderful poetry.

Jim Ketteridge said...

Fascinating blog, never thought of the mechanics of it all quite like 'sun stopped'...and what beautiful words.

Anonymous said...

A brilliant post! It was fascinating to read, I love the photographs and the sun stopped poem is quite something.👍

Anonymous said...

A beautiful poem.

Lee Ballantyne said...

Wonderful blogging, most atmospheric.

Tony Sedgwick said...

That is a brilliant poem!

Minnie the Manx said...

This was such a lovely read.

Rick H. said...

I read this when you posted it originally back in June - and again just now because it caught my eye in the 'trending' list on your website and I have to say it's one of the best things I read all year, so atmospheric, so lyrical.

Jake Morrison said...

Fabulous midsummer lore, beautiful photos and an excellent poem.

Anonymous said...

A fascinating read and magical poetry. 👍 Wish I had your talent!

Noragh Montgomerie said...

Yes, magical indeed.

Elise Curzon said...

I'm blown away by this - beautiful pics and a fabulous poem. The world keeps turning and summer will come again.

Anonymous said...

Brilliant! 🔥

Lois Hayburn said...

I loved this! Such an uplifting read in the middle of winter. The poetry is fabulous, as many have stated. ❤️

Denise Lewin-Cooper said...

Oh yes. Fascinating folklore and an exceptionally lovely poem (not to mention beautiful photography).

Jostein Nornes said...

You have many good comments and it is clear to see why. 👍

Dorrie Quesnel said...

That's such a lovely post.

Meg Bushell said...

Amazing! I love all the folklore stuff. Your poem is beautiful.

Maija Ozolina said...

I love this. ❤️

Anonymous said...

Fascinating post and lovely poem.

Mark Hurley said...

Excellent stuff.

Nik Stengelis said...

Fascinating folklore and lovely poetry and pictures - great blog.

Dan Ewers said...

I read this blog last summer and enjoyed it but didn't comment. I noticed it is still trending and as it happens I'm reading a Len Deighton novel (Horse Under Water) set in Portugal where I came upon the following, which I thought would be of interest: "Half a dozen cold beers later we were onto the witches' sabbath of St. John's night, when boys and girls jump hand in hand over bonfires. The girl burns the flower of a purple thistle in the flames and plants the stalk. Only true love makes the stalk flower." And just for the record, I think your Sun Stopped poem is one of your finest.

Jeanie Buckingham said...

Steve, is 'Fernweed' what I call Mare's Tails because my garden is awash with them and I could really do with some hopeful lovers to pluck them .. as fast as I pull them they grow back.

Ali Marceau said...

Superb! 🌞🔥🌞🔥🌞

Lisbeth Tex said...

Lovely!

Samina Afzal said...

Such an illuminating read. Your poem is fabulous.

Louis Tan said...

It would be something to experience (for those of us living nearer to the equator).

Aneeta Mohit said...

Joyous.🌞

Millie Baxter said...

That's brilliant. I enjoyed it so much. It's a super poem.