The sun stands still: and then, again, it begins to move. I would say back into light, but the sun never doesn't know light. It is light, energy, life.
Two lovely things I ran across today on Facebook that I'll share here, for a simple post for this rainy day:
First, a brief poem by Wendell Berry from This Day: Collected and New Sabbath Poems (shared on FB by Terry Tempest Williams):
Again we come
to the resurrection
of bloodroot from the dark,
a hand that reaches up
out of the ground
holding a lamp.
And this photo, shared by Lidia Yuknavitch with the wish "happy solstice, fellow human and nonhuman beings. the trees are listening." I'm sure she won't mind my sharing it on here.