Your Voice Could Be Heard By Millions This Weekend
June 18, 2008
June 21 is the first day of summer in the northern hemisphere. It's also the first day of winter in the southern hemisphere. It's a very important moment in time for our planet, because it's when the sun's rays directly strike one of the two tropical latitude lines on our ever-spinning globe. The planetary extremes are amazing. On June 21 there will be 24 hours of continuous daylight north of the Arctic Circle and 24 hours of continuous darkness south of the Antarctic Circle.
Over the years we've become detached from such global happenings, but if you pay attention to nature's cycles, as people and their hominid ancestors did over the millennia, it can be a very powerful and even life-changing experience. This weekend, tens of thousands of travelers will be observing the summer solstice at Stonehenge, the 3100 B.C. prehistoric monument in Wiltshire, England. I've been asked to write a statement that will be read to the expected 35,000 visitors.
I could do this myself, but I would like to incorporate your thoughts into the statement, which should touch on themes of our connection to nature, non-human animals, and to our spiritual connection to each other. Somehow, as a species, we need to get our collective act together, since we are caretakers of this planet, and there are disturbing signs—mass extinctions, global climate change and more— that we could do better.
So here is your chance to inspire the thousands at Stonehenge, and perhaps the millions more who might be watching the solstice events unfold on television. I promise to seriously consider all comments for inclusion. Please respond by writing your thoughts in the "Comments" area here by the end of today, as I need to get the statement to the Stonehenge event organizers tomorrow. Thank you!















Jennifer,
As a girl, lying damp in the grass, watching with awe the endless stars, I searched for tiny Sputnik; I feared my lonely, infinitesimal place in the sprawling universe.
But I loved peering in the grasses at the beach, as leggy bugs made their way over the sand like stones to them; then sitting up on the same warm, dusty sand to see pelicans pause and dive into a steaming, blowing sea, swooping up swirling, flashing sardines. All this while greenish waves crashed, roaring up, foam finally reaching me, scaring tiny sand crabs (an unreal powder pink), who scrabbled away, immediately redigging their holes in the wet, kicking dark damp sand back, just as our puppies, who I'd watched grow from bumping sides of the mom, birthing, breathing at once, and growing so fast that my eyes could barely see it, were scratching in the dry dunes scaring up the chittering, scolding quail, who raised their fuzzy hiding babies nearby.
I love God for reminding us to love the world. "Feed my sheep", Jesus said, a message as if to shepherds, but meaning us, and maybe more importantly reminding us of "the sparrows whose deaths were not unnoticed or apart from God." I think it was assumed we would take care of the world...not knowing what grasping people we would become. We are so wealthy now...beyond Solomon, I've read, and Solomon was a rich man!!
Maybe we can slow down, peer at the environmental changes, grieve for ecological losses, check our self responsibility, and do as we're asked: take care of all life, for the love of it, and for salvation of our planet.
That sun peeking into Stonehenge was so important to our ancestors that a massive monument was built. The sun that beams into that space also sends life and light to this watery wonderful place that is our home.
What an amazing event.
Joelle
Posted by: Joelle | June 18, 2008 at 01:19 PM
Lovely thoughts, Joelle. Thanks a million for taking the time to write in. I will incorporate your response into the statement that will be read at Stonehenge to mark the summer solstice. Everyone's been swamped with work today, so please tell your friends to share their thoughts too, if they have time.
Posted by: Jen Viegas | June 18, 2008 at 03:50 PM
"First Lesson" by Philip Booth
Lie back daughter, let your head
be tipped back in the cup of my hand.
Gently, and I will hold you. Spread
your arms wide, lie out on the stream
and look high at the gulls. A dead-
man's float is face down. You will dive
and swim soon enough where this tidewater
ebbs to the sea. Daughter, believe
me, when you tire on the long thrash
to your island, lie up, and survive.
As you float now, where I held you
and let go, remember when fear
cramps your heart what I told you:
lie gently and wide to the light-year
stars, lie back, and the sea will hold you.
Posted by: Random Comment Generator | June 18, 2008 at 04:39 PM
Remember these days and the next 1500 or so. I believe history is unfolding before our eyes to change this world forever as we now know it. Many people scramble to warn the world of the climates changes, but most continue on their merry ways not noticing and uncaring. Their only concern is their close world around themselves, not the fragile world ecosystem which is from the ant and the air to the zebra and ourselves included. As the changes happen it will be like a pendulum swinging faster and farther with each progression. Remember this beautiful world as it is now- before it changes.
Posted by: Carla | June 18, 2008 at 11:07 PM
Thank you, Carla. Sobering words to contemplate. Your timing was perfect. Just under my deadline!
Posted by: Jen Viegas | June 18, 2008 at 11:41 PM