I'm writing this on the other side of the longest day of this year. It's gusty and dark now and the sky is intermittently afire with flashes of lightning. Another Summer Solstice has come and gone. Here in the Pacific Northwest, we enjoyed 16 glorious hours of daylight today. The day started off cloudy but gave way to clear and sunny skies in the afternoon. A relief to me, as today was also the Full Strawberry Moon. It's not a very common occurrence for the two events to fall on the same day (it's been 49 years since the last occurrence) and I was dearly hoping to catch a glimpse of the moon this evening.
We took our dinner down to the park near our home and enjoyed the waning sunlight, hoping to see the moon. As clouds hung low below the bright sky above, we decided it was improbable that we would catch the moonrise, so we headed home where a strawberry pie awaited us.
I've never made a strawberry pie, but I wanted so much to do something to honor the Strawberry Moon. I think it has the very loveliest and most poetic of names, and it seemed to me that in this place, where winter feels extra long with its short days and long nights, that a Solstice Sun and a Strawberry Moon deserved celebration indeed.
Learning to understand the changing seasons, observing the broad and subtle changes they bring, and celebrating it all helps us find meaning and purpose in the long dark winters. Growing up in the south, I never needed a reason to celebrate the radiant sun; it was an ever-present companion. But here, I've learned to savor the sunlight, to bask in it and soak it up, and also to find meaning in the dark, cold months.
The Strawberry Moon is so named because it comes in the height of the strawberry season, a bright, sweet gift brought to us each summer. While the Summer Solstice marks the first day of summer, it also acknowledges autumn, then winter, as days begin to wane: imperceptibly at first, and then with increasingly less discretion. So now, as the sun begins its turn south, so too do we remember that darker days will come. But for now, there are strawberries and sunshine and these experiences sustain us. This is why we celebrate.