RING OUT WILD SKY

Ring out wild bells to the wild sky

The flying cloud, the frosty light;

The year is dying in the night

Ring out wild bells and let him die.

—Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Winter began today with the passing solstice, which, here in southwestern Ohio, occurred at 12:30 a.m. EST. Yes, I know you folks on the other side of the globe changed your seasons yesterday, or on your twenty-first day of December. That's because unlike, say, the celestial event of sunrise, which moves around the globe and is governed by the horizon, an astronomical happening such as the solstice takes place everywhere in the same hemisphere at once. For us riverbank denizens. that was half-past midnight this morning.


In looking at numerous headlines and bylined coverage from various publications around the country, I see the facts of this particular solstice have apparently confused journalists and nature writers by the dozens. This is one of my pet peeves. Sad to say, confusion is typically the case for many writers attempting to cover a solstice. But these are folks you think would either know better—or at least would know how to research well enough to avoid making such incompetent public mistakes. 


The rampant blunders and misunderstandings fall into two basic categories—the actual time of the event itself, and what happens to our days following the passing of the winter solstice.


For the record—the 2011 Winter Solstice occurred December 22 at 5:30 UTC (Universal Time Coordinated) which was 12:30 p.m. here on the Atlantic coast time zone of the U.S. and 9:30 p.m. yesterday (December 21) on our Pacific coast. So for you pseudo-druids in California, St. Louis, Cleveland, and New York who got up early yesterday to don your robes and dance and chant on some dawning hilltop…you'll not be pleased to learn you did it all a day early, and I'm guessing your ignorance went uncorrected, so you probably then missed out on a second larking-about try on the real first post-solstice sunrise today. Bummer, dude. Better check out the ol' almanac a bit closer next year. 


Now, here's a word to those who've recently published pieces about how the winter solstice ushers in the season of darkness…wrong-o, bongo! You've gotten it precisely bass-ackwards. Winter's start is the beginning of sunlight's increase—the days get longer and brighter from here on out; not shorter and darker. Again, a glance at the almanac's LENGTH OF DAYLIGHT tables would keep you from penning such drivel. 


Okay, I feel better now that I've had my little rant.             


Finally, allow me to say I'm delighted today because no photo I've made recently has so well fitted with a favorite bit of verse chosen to preface the day's post. I'd already planned on using the lines from Tennyson—figuring they could work as well for a passing season as a passing year—but the wild sky, as seen when looking west across the river from the cottage, was pure, perfect serendipity. As you can see, the river is up and muddy from yesterday's rains—though from the look of the stream level, it obviously rained a lot more somewhere upstream than it did here. And in case you're wondering, this isn't a worrisome height. Moreover, I think the brown water goes dramatically well with the brooding sky and hard crosslight.  

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