 Happy
Alban Heflin, Feast of Epona, Feast of St. John the Baptist, Johannistag,
Litha Sonnwend or Midsummer Day! All these are
names for the ancient observances and celebrations of the summer solstice.
It is officially
the first day of summer, referred to as “Midsummer,” because
it is in the middle of the growing season of Europe. Summer solstice
comes from two Latin words, sol, meaning “sun” and sistere,
to cause to stand still.
Shakespeare celebrated it
From ancient times to modern day, people have observed the changes
in the earth and sky. In the Northwest, we gauge our seasons
by when the crocuses bloom, the geese fly over and the infamous smelt
runs in the Cowlitz. So as these events mark the beginning of something,
summer solstice continues to mark “The Light of Summer,” the
day of maximum light, historically the longest day of our year. Shakespeare
even wrote a comedy about romance in a fairy kingdom that takes place
on the summer solstice, A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Ancient peoples used the alignment of light or projection of shadows
to announce this special day. The  entrance of the 5000-year-old temple, Stonehenge,
a magnificent megalith built by the Druids, aligned with the
sunrise at the summer solstice. The earliest known event took place
in Egypt at the Temple of Amen-Ra in 3700 B.C.
On the solstice, the sun’s rays would project beam into the temple
interior for 2–3 minutes. The priests determined the length
of the solar year from this event. During my Linfield College experience,
I traveled to Peru to study South American culture. The Incas built
temple entryways that captured the sunrise on the solstice and today,
Peruvians still use the temple to mark the solstice.
Seasonal celebrations: at the center of community life.
Summer solstice was often a time of marriage and wedding celebrations
in ancient times; this continues today as June is heralded as the wedding
month. It was a time when snow was disappearing, food was easier to
find and flowers were beginning to bloom. The first full moon in June
is called the Honey Moon, traditionally thought to be a holy time to
harvest honey from the hives. During this month, couples would be wed
between the planting and the harvesting of crops. To encourage love,
newlywed couples ate dishes prepared with honey for the first month
of married life; evidence of this tradition survives, as the “honeymoon” follows
the wedding.
Summer solstice signals predictability ~ something to celebrate!
The solstice implies continuity of life and the natural cycles. It
occurs under the astrological sign of the Crab, which has been interpreted
to symbolize the year starting to move backward from this day.
So we can celebrate any way we like and discover a little astronomy,
anthropology and folklore, too.
Summer solstice is like a giant greeting card that reads, “Get
out the barbecue!”
Deena
Martinsen enjoys sketching scenes from her life and
learnings. She plays French horn and lives in Longview
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STANDING
STILL
As the Earth revolves around the sun, the sun appears to move northward, stop,
move southward, stop, and then move northward again during each yearly cycle.
This means that for part of the year, the Northern Hemisphere is inclined toward
the sun and for part of year, it is inclined away from the sun. Solstice occurs
because the Earth is tilted 23.4 degrees on its rotational axis. Solstice comes
from a Latin phrase meaning “the sun stands still.”
In our Northern Hemisphere, spring begins about March 21when the sun appears
to cross the equator on its way north. Summer begins about June 21, when the
sun reaches a latitude of 23.4 degrees north, at what we now call the Tropic
of Cancer. This is its most northerly position, and its arrival is known as the
Summer Solstice. On this day, the sun appears directly overhead at noon for an
observer on the Tropic of Cancer. It is the longest day of the year.
After the solstice, the sun heads southward again, crossing the equator in September.
(autumnal equinox) It reaches the Tropic of Capricorn (23.4 degrees south) on
Dec. 21 (winter solstice), and then traverses the sky on its climb back to spring,
when it re-crosses the equator (vernal equinox) on its way north, completing
the cycle of the seasons.
~Rob Kedenburg, CRR's ”Looking Up” columnist
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SUE'S
VIEWS: Family, summer solstice, beating drums and clanging rocks
by Sue Piper,
Columbia River Reader Publisher/Editor/Janitor
 It’s
fine to be proud of ancestors who came over on the Mayflower or who sailed
around Cape Horn. But I think we should also be impressed by those Druids.
Researchers suggest that the Celtic priesthood may have been responsible
for Stonehenge, built in about 2000 B.C. Somehow, those “primitive” people
figured out how to move at least 80 four-ton stones something
like 240 miles to erect the mysterious megalith on England’s Salisbury
Plain. Images of Stonehenge are often used to symbolize celebration of
the summer solstice (See Sidebar).
Richard Bacon, owner of All Season Garden Center in Kelso, will have
fun mixing traditions this year, when the nursery’s “Longest
Sale of the Year” ends with the 2nd Annual Summer Drummer potluck
for customers and neighbors. A former Boston resident, he was inspired
by the “cool tradition” friends there observed with their
annual Summer Solstice Pig Roast.
“Any neighbor could come to dinner,” Richard recalled, “as
long as they brought a noisemaker.” Drumming on the summer solstice
goes way back, it seems.
“It’s a Pagan thing,” he explained. Ancient people
were keenly aware of the earth’s natural cycles (See Summer Solstice
story). “They used to bang rocks and have a parade with noisemakers
to call in the longest day of the year.” When the ancients worshiped
their sun god, Richard explained,“They’d bang and clang their
way to the temple.” Later,
the Romans in England and Normandy picked up the practice from the Druids. “The
more noise you make,” he said, “the longer the sun stays
up. You’re enticing the sun not to set.” A worthy effort,
I’m sure.
The word “Pagan” (from Latin paganus, meaning “an old
country dweller, rustic”) is a term which has come to imply a broad
set of spiritual or cultic practices or beliefs of any folk religion,
and of polytheistic religions in particular. It has an inherent Christian
bias and “pejorative connotation” among many Westerners,
according to Wikipedia, the online encyclopedia.
It’s true. Mention the Druids, wood nymphs, or Merlin and some
people register disdain. I think Pagans get kind of a bad rap and are
unfairly blamed for somehow tainting modern holidays, just because many
customs — such as Easter eggs, jack-o-lanterns, mistletoe and Christmas
trees — were adopted into later traditions.
Whatever belief systems subsequently emerged, it hardly seems ancient
people’s fault they lived before democracy, the United Nations,
Starbucks, the Red Hat Society, and organized religion as we know it.
The Pagans’ ceremonies and celebrations seem to have revolved around
the same things most of ours do: survival and trying to make sense
of the world and our place in it.
They didn’t perceive or define “God” in the same
way, but many of their practices and rituals reflect our common humanity
and relationship to the natural world.
This year, I’ll be at CAP’s Summer Solstice Crab & Karaoke
Festival (see ad, page 20). Maybe I’ll see you there. Consider
celebrating the summer solstice on June 21, acknowledging your ties to
the Earth and its cycles and seasons. You could visit the Maryhill Stonehenge
replica at sunset, or have a bonfire in your backyard, or perhaps plant
some seeds by candlelight and marvel of the wonder of it all.
And at your next family reunion, after toasting Uncle Herman and other
departed relatives, why not raise your glass, beat a drum or bang a rock
in honor of the Druids and other Pagans? They, too, are our common ancestors
and part of the “family of man.” It’s a very big clan. |
THE SPECTATOR:
Midsummer Musings
by Ned Piper
 Before son Perry’s friend, Jake Jepson, left for the University of
Oregon last Fall, he loaned Perry his drum set. It still dominates Perry’s
small bedroom to the point you have to be a contortionist to reach his
dresser. Perry can be heard practicing drums every day. I’m sure
the neighbors can attest to that. It brings new meaning to the expression, “He
travels to the beat of a different drummer.”
I read with interest Sue’s editorial (Sue’s Views, page 3)
about Richard Bacon’s celebration of the summer solstice with drums
and other noisemakers at All Season Garden Center, a tradition that harkens
back to the Druids at Stonehenge in England.
Last summer, Perry and I made a road trip through the Columbia River Gorge.
One of the highlights was a stop at the Stonehenge quasi-replica near Maryhill
Museum. From a number of interesting angles, Perry took a series of photos,
including the  one shown here, of the huge hunks of concrete “stones.” It
was easy to imagine time-traveling back to the days of the Druids, to a
celebration of the midsummer solstice. I wonder if a visit to the original
Stonehenge may have inspired playwright
William Shakespeare to pen A Midsummer Night’s Dream, one of his
best.
While attending Lower Columbia College in the ‘60s, I had the good
fortune to perform in a production of A Midsummer
Night’s Dream.
In the course of the play, a collection of country bumpkins is assembled
to perform a tragic love story called Pyramus & Thisbe, for the pleasure
of the lords and ladies. I was cast as Thisbe, the female lead in this
little play within the play.
My costume was fitted with fake breasts to give my character a feminine
look. On opening night, as my character Thisbe was being introduced I took
an exaggerated bow. When I stood upright, I discovered that one of my fake
breasts had fallen to my waist. Embarrassed, I turned around and adjusted
it back to where it should have been. The audience howled with laughter.
I was mortified. To make matters worse, it dropped more than once in the
course of the play. When I finally exited stage, humiliated beyond belief,
I was met by our director, William Dore, who told me that this physical
bit with the fake boob was fabulous. He wanted me leave it in. Somehow,
I managed to get through the run of the play, completely upstaged by a
prop.
On closing night, three of my fellow actors and I were on our way to the
cast party. My good friend Terre Harris was driving his ’40 Ford
when a police car, lights flashing, pulled us over. The cop asked Terre
to step out of the car and produce his license. He stopped us because of
a burned out tail light.
The cop shinned his flashlight in Terre’s face and said, “Hey,
what’s all that sparkly stuff in your hair?” Terre replied, “Oh,
I’m Oberon, the King of the Fairies. And this is Theseus and Demetrius
and Thisbe.”
The cop let us go without a ticket. On that night, at least, we were all
traveling to the beat of a different drummer. By the way, I was awarded
the “Actress of the Year” honors at the college that year. |
