A Winter Solstice

Accompanied by ‘Gingko’, composed for string quartet by Emily Scott and performed by Glisk.

Ginkgo Biloba

Although I hadn’t met Allan, the writer of this story, before undertaking Stories of People and Trees, I had spend time in the company of the tree he celebrates in this story. Publishing this story in December, it is a timely and evocative exploration of the feel of the garden as we approach the winter solstice and the turning of the year.

The Shortest Day. A white mist silently shrouds the Hidden Gardens. The still haze cloaks the sleeping settlement. The air is cold, freshand moist. High up, a crow’s caw cuts into the sky, as the diffuse glow of morning light begins to infuse the slowly rising miasma. The shimmering shadow of a returning fox, briefly disrupts the calm, then fades. The quiet returns. As daylight gradually breaks, groups of nestling bushes and shrubs, awaken with the rustling of rousing wildlife. Trees stretch with a concertina of balletic branches embracing the arrival of the new day. The clinging mist finally releases it’s grip and ascends, leaving a glistening layer of silvery-white frost. The delicate blades of grass sparkle in the morning light.

At the far corner of the extending lawn, the solitary figure of a ginko biloba tree stands tall and proud like a wise tribal elder. It’s branches spiral upwards to the heavens. The surrounding congregation bows reverently in anticipation of the winter solstice.

All are hushed. A single track of tiny prints zips through the crisp frost. All focus on the track as it makes its way towards the bottom corner of the turf. Towards the tree. The footprints come to a halt. A little robin red breast stands boldly on the glittery grass, arching its head, to address the rising giant. A loud silence fills the air.

The wee robin hops closer, perching on the tree’s knobbly roots. Its’ tiny beak chirps……the silence gets louder……the ginko considers the wee postulating creature……the silence intensifies…..then…, all is well…harmony prevails as the robin takes flight, spiralling upwards, playfully twirling in and around the giant’s welcoming branches.

All is bright.

The Longest Night

It’s dusk. A single snowflake drops delicately towards earth, floating precariously in the breeze, hovering over a daze of orangey-yellow, iridescent lighting. A dark, imposing form appears within the illuminations. As the little snowflake descends, the contours of the mysterious clearing slowly expand, revealing a stretch of ground, surrounded by dense foliage. On entering the terrain, the snowflake gravitates towards a long range of grassland. Downwards it falls, steadily descending, prepares to land, then sets down safely on the glistening grass.

The little robin, perched up high, shivers as it quietly looks on. More fragile crystals parachute by. Soon, the bustling air is filled with a kaleidoscope of snowflakes in free fall. The wind picks up. More and more frozen flakes boisterously launch into the air in a sustained onslaught. Myriads of sparkling fragments hurriedly jostle for space, propelling bursts of snow into every nook and cranny. No corner is spared. Then, when the biting gusts of wind relent, the hail slows up, until, eventually, the invasion finally ceases. The quiet returns.

The robin peeps out from its shelter. All is clear. The landing is complete. The slumbering garden is now thickly blanketed by soft, pure, white snow. All is calm.

A full moon illuminates the newly inhabited terrain. The lunar light diffuses a cool, serene glow over the opulent gardens. The undulating fall softly coats the clusters of huddling bushes. Branches bend and lilt. The undergrowth shelters in the dark. As the last speckle falls to earth, the tranquil evening moonlight blesses the winters’ night. The long, untouched sward emerges, evenly covered, edge to edge, with a thick coating of soft, fresh, snow. Up above in the clear night sky, the ginko is silhouetted by an aurora of celestial light, as a constellation of stars twinkle brightly in celebration of the solar resurrection. It is the longest night.

The silent evening closes in on the world. The earth is at rest. The garden is sound. It is still, quiet, at peace.

Reaching upward, Ginko embraces the heavens. The surrounding ensemble bows as the ethereal cycle unfolds. The tree’s outstretching branches herald the transformation of time. It is a period of change.

Seasons change. Dark gives to light. Night to day.

What was dormant, will now grow.

As evening passes and draws to a close, the passage of time gives way to creation. The hidden world will awaken to the unveiling of the divine light of dawn, radiating with the essence of the sun’s warming presence, that shall transfigure a new beginning, a new day, new life.