With Halloween and Guy Fawkes night now seemingly long behind us, the trees stripped bare of their leaves, the crisp, jumper-wearing days now giving way to those more freezing, frostier, three layer wearing nights, it seems as if Autumn is at an end. Only it isn’t. In fact, the season of autumn doesn’t officially wrap up (pardon the pun) until the clock strikes twelve on the darkest day of the year – the 21st of December, or, as it is astronomically known, the winter solstice. Yet, as dark and cold as it may be getting, as we approach this date, many of us see this transition from autumn to winter as an exciting period. After all, for most of us in the Western world at least, it’s a time for festivities, cosy evenings, hot chocolates, baking, carol singing and family gatherings. Indeed, this time of year may be seen as one of the highlights of our human experience; enveloping ourselves in the warmth that we, as a species, have created and curated, from our homes, clothes, and gifts to the holiday season itself. As Stewart shows us through his works here however, the changing of the seasons also demonstrates our connectedness to the natural world.
We may not die off like the plants or enter into a deep sleep in the same way that other mammals do, yet interestingly we seem to mimic such events through our behaviour. For instance, on average, in a manner akin to animalistic hibernation, humans eat, drink, sleep and take more time off work during December than at any other point in the year. Just like the plants too, many of us allow certain aspects of ourselves, such as old habits, to wither away, so that we may emerge anew in the spring. On this point, there are more resolution lists written, diets undertaken, sobriety books bought, gym memberships purchased and ‘how to’ guides sold during January than at any other time of the year. What is perhaps more interesting, is that when we consider the lengths of time that we are informed it will take for these objectives to be achieved, then the completion of these goals coincides with the beginning of spring. You won’t have to scroll on your social media or flick through the television channels for long in January for instance, before you start seeing 90-day sobriety challenges, ‘master the guitar in 12 weeks’ videos or ‘your perfect body in 3 months’ programmes. Essentially, we are encouraged to be a new version of ourselves and to restore balance in our lives by the time spring arrives.
Compared to the spring equinox, which occurs on the 21st of March, when there is almost an equal amount of daylight as there is darkness, the winter solstice represents a time of extreme imbalance. In astronomical terms, in the U.K. at least, there are just under eight hours of sunlight on the 21st of December. Interestingly, as we will observe later in the magazine, many people see this day of seemingly all-encompassing darkness as something deeply spiritual. During the Dongzhi Festival in China for instance, many Taoists look to portray this time of year through art as Yin (often seen as calmness) eclipsing Yang (frequently viewed as being symbolic of high energy). With one modern Taoist stating: ‘This is a time of stillness to sit deep within ourselves and embrace introspection’. Outside of religion and astrology, there is also, as mentioned, an imbalance in our lifestyles too, with us eating, drinking and sleeping more than usual. Yet the greatest impact from this astronomical event is upon our natural world, something which may be first seen in our gardens as the flowers wilt and the hedges yellow – and it is here dear reader, that our story begins.
