A Solstice Interlude

These are the last days of the Holly King’s reign. Does that surprise you? Winter begins now, you’re thinking. And while the days remain short and the ultramarine nights seemingly endless, a shift has taken place. On this day in late December, Holly must tip the baton into the waiting hand of the Oak King, who will reign once more until June.

The longest night. The longest day. These kings revel in hyperbole, and neither of them goes quietly once his hour has come. Early in Oak’s new tenure, Holly will bellow his displeasure with wind and blizzards. Yet in spite of the cold damp of February, Oak begins to sing the sap up and wake the dreaming trees with his long sleety rains.

No peaceful transfer of power here. Still, come this day, light seeps back like water from a hidden spring, a patch of moisture that becomes a trickle until one early evening in March, the sky turns the indigo of an angel’s wing. Holly sighs and steps away while rabbits stir and synapses fire beneath the soil. But while Oak may unfurl his green cloak and flex his power, it is only for a time, because in the end, all true kings serve the Mother.