just juncos picking seeds from frozen grass,
while deer pause mid-browse in the hemlock shade,
their breath clouding like kettle steam. 

The sun, low and tired, barely clears
the ridge before settling back to sleep,
yet the chickadees keep time
in the bare branches, marking
each precious minute of light. 

We could learn from them—
how to find sustenance in scarcity,
how to sing through the lean hours,
how to trust the turning world
when darkness feels permanent.

Miah

[The December solstice is the shortest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere and the longest day of the year in the Southern Hemisphere. In the CYCAL system it is the last, and - at the same time - the first, day of each turning of the year. Like a clock that strikes midnight as one day becomes the next the deafening gong of the winter solstice is… silence.]