He was back this magical morning. We don’t know about the precise identity of our avian friend, the large graceful shape with dark body plumage and the elegant white trailing feathers on the broad, strong wings.

It seems bigger than the hawks we see, stronger and more martial in appearance than our baleful buzzards who are always paired in their elegant soaring presence. We call it “The Eagle,” and we think it is a manifestation of the beauty and the power of nature on this morning. Spring is saying a respectful farewell. There are another couple dozen hours before the arrival of the Summer Solstice on the 21st of June at 10:13 AM British Summer Time (BST). It seems to us that is a bit early for our version of time, but the Brits have both the mute monoliths at Stonehenge and that observatory at Greenwich in their possession, so we will cede the moment to their marking of it.

Regardless of hour, it is a magic moment in the year. Our pal Jim Champagne would growl at the Amen Corner of the Willow Bar that it wasn’t the longest day of the year, since they are all the same, dark or light. That would lead to a digression about oribtal changes that might have a portion of a second’s difference, and then another drink.

What the Solstice does is mark the commencement of Summer. At that moment our Sun reaches its highest point in the sky, and here in the northern hemisphere, that results in the longest period of daylight in our year. That would satisfy Jim, and we raise our ballcaps to his memory that still swoops through our memory on this day each year. Mechanics? The solstices (and the equinoxes) are the result of our Earth’s tilt and our shared orbit around our Sun.

As you well know, our planet’s axis of rotation is tilted by around 23.4 degrees relative to our orbit around the boiling mass of incandescent matter that lights our world. During the summer Solstice, Refuge Farm and her occupants are our maximum tilt towards the bright orb, and makes for the longest Happy Hour of the year.

Yesterday was a test, with the temperatures soaring into triple digits to test our mettle. We performed well despite the heat, and accomplished the designated missions requiring consumption of petroleum distillates. Our pal Joe received some good news about the duration of his temporary confinement for medical purposes down in Charlottesville. We had planned to motor down to see him, had liberation not beckoned. That is part of the series of miracles we celebrate today. We celebrate the power and majesty of creatures that fly with strength and purpose. We salute the rising golden orb in his brilliant azure sky, decorated with appropriately deferential puffs of brilliant white.

We could, as is the usual practice around the Fire Ring, recount the latest lunacy of a society that is presenting challenges to those who have previously achieved the full ride around the larger ring some seventy-odd times. It has had some bumps, we acknowledge, and that has improved our gait and balance on the soil on which we lightly tread. This wonderful morning, Spring bestows her departure gifts to our little rambunctious circle. She gives us a marvelous dawn, pleasant cool temperatures and good news about dear friends.

Delivered with the grace of powerful airborne associates above a tilting world. Our occasionally recalcitrant pal Splash says he has some words to share later. Ones about the days after the Solstice, when the shadows slowly lengthen across our world and the warmth of the summer sun fades to the chill and darkness of Autumn. But he says we will have to share those down by the bridge over the creek that bounds the Chairman’s property. After our Watch Attorney checks out for the day, and we can speak unobserved.

It is a magical day that sends her farewell in perfect Piedmont style. And now it is time to go out and embrace it. See you down at The Bridge.

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