We have already arrived at the longest day. Where have the first six months of this year gone?  It’s true we did spend the first quarter of the year in lockdown, and that was still a very busy time with all our online activities and regular weekly tasks.  Actually, as I look back over the titles of my weekly blogs on my computer for the first half of the year, it reminds me of how much has happened and how much we have reflected on together, week by week.  Perhaps in future years, I shall return to these weekly jottings, and find pleasure in re-reading my regular accounts of events which have taken place in my household, in our church, in the wider community, in the country and in the world – from the micro to the macro scale.  And in another 40 years if I am still around, I might show these reflections to my grandchildren and great grandchildren, and tell them about when I lived and worked through the pandemic of the 2020s.  I wonder if it will interest them.  I shall clearly have to print the articles off sooner rather than later, because otherwise computers will have moved into a completely different sphere, operated by a flick of the eyelid, and we probably won’t be using paper printers anymore!

The longest day and the shortest day always seem of huge significance to me, partly because they turn up so soon in summer and winter, before I really feel we have arrived at the relevant season.  And with summer, there is always that tinge of sadness that for the remainder of the year “the nights are drawing in”, to quote a family saying!  It is a sure-fire way of eliciting groans of mock disapproval around the table, when we haven’t even reached the summer holidays yet! 

But the underlying awareness of the year running away too quickly is a natural human reaction.  We sense that time seems to pass more quickly as we get older, and we recognise that we will never get this day back again.  Maturity seems to heighten our appreciation of the precious time which we have left, much as the cherry blossom (sakura) season is prized in Japan as the great spring festival of renewal with its fleeting fragility; and similarly the white wisteria on our pergola is the highlight of my garden year.  (For those of you who remember my disappointment at the late frost last year, I’m sure you will be pleased to hear the wisteria flowers returned in all their splendour this year.)

Celebrations around the longest day have existed in many societies for centuries.  In Norway, the traditional celebration of Jonsok (or Vigil for John) marked the summer solstice and the eve of St John the Baptist with a bonfire, music, dancing and a party. This occasion combined religious and secular celebrations with a good excuse for a party, as has happened much in Western culture – Christmas is the obvious example.  In the current extended period of restrictions, we can’t meet for a party, and we might feel there isn’t much to dance about at the moment (even if dancing were permitted).   But at least we can make a determined effort to live in the now, to enjoy each day we are given, and to give thanks that we are still alive, with several more weeks of summer still to come.

Sarah Bourne, Chaplain for the Arts – 23^rd June 2021         sarahbourne@banburystmary.org.uk