The winter solstice has become, in western cultures, one associated with father Christmas, or Santa Claus, and the birth of Christ. Many ancient and more recent stories have intertwined to create what makes westerners scurry around putting up lights, dragging trees into their homes, and exchanging gifts. Part of our current traditions are carried from thousands of years of intersecting stories, and some were more recent—like the Victorian birth of industrialization and the shopping mall.
One interesting thread among solstice stories is ornithological lore…bird stories related to this time of year—perhaps because of how much the flourishing of birds symbolizes the continuance of health, prosperity and well-being for us humans. One of the most ancient of these stories of the western world is that of the Halcyon Days, associated with the kingfisher bird. The legend goes that the wind god Aeolus had a daughter named Alcyone, who married King Ceyx of Thessaly. After Ceyx drowned at sea, Alcyone threw herself into the sea in grief—but instead of drowning, Zeuss turned her into a beautiful bird, now known as the kingfisher (Megaceryle alcyon), and her father Aeolus carried her to her husband, who also became a kingfisher.
The ancient Greeks (before ornithological studies revealed otherwise) believed that these magical birds made floating sea nests—that these magical nests calmed the waves during the period for 14 days—the midpoint being the 21st of December. Eventually, the expression “halcyon days” alluded to some peaceful, prosperous time of one’s life when all seems right and good. Even still, western culture celebrates this time period, usually around mid-December, until the beginning of January, as a time of peace, a break from the turbulence of life—or at least, we hope it to be that way. We turn away from the bustle of our hectic way of life inward, toward our own dwelling and loved ones.
This year is especially inward, of course, as many cannot be with their loved ones, because to do so would put them at risk. We are perhaps not feeling these times to be especially peaceful or plentiful. Many are struggling. Some people, such as health workers, cannot slow down or take a break, because hospitals are full. So what can this solstice hold for us? Perhaps hope for a better year? Perhaps transformation—lessons learned by being forced to live life differently? Perhaps reflections on loss and gratitude for our lives, for the lives of those who remain with us? I know for me all of these are true.
When I watch the birds, including the kingfisher, who spends much of its time diving to catch its meals, I think about our human, western cultural ways of life. We have created clock-time and calendars that keep us beating to one drummer, dreaming of those halcyon times when we might have peace, a time without struggle and strife. The birds often live their lives on the edge of survival, flowing with seasonal changes and making challenging adaptations to climate change. They are never strangers to disease and loss, but they make the most of moments of peace and plenty.
This year especially, halcyon days seem elusive. In my own life, isolation, changes in our ways of life, and loss has forced me to dive deeply (like the kingfisher) into reflective waters. To make the most of moments, however brief, of peace and joy. I wish that you have some of those moments during solstice time. Halcyon days is a story of being granted calm in the midst of turbulence. But, like the birds, I will take halcyon moments with gratitude.