Today’s the day I watch for, every year at this time.

Forget Christmas, I’ve been known to pass Dec 25 without even noticing. No, the day I watch for is of variable date, but always happens right around now. Today (this evening actually, but I don’t need that much precision, I’m not building a stone-age observatory) is the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year. And this is My Own Private Stonehenge…

From early December to sometime in February, when I find other things to worry about, unless it’s cloudy or I stay overlong in the sack I note the minute at which the sun touches the top of that cliff. For the record, this morning it was 7:37. It’ll stay there, frustratingly, for the next couple of weeks and then gradually it’ll start happening earlier and earlier.

Used to be the only reason I cared about this was because I hate winter, and the lengthening days were the only sign available to me that someday this too will pass. For the past several years, of course, the solstice has had much more concrete meaning. When you live with a tiny – literally minimal, in that any smaller won’t actually work – solar power system, day length matters. Mine is calculated* to barely scrape through the dark of winter without running the batteries down so low so constantly as to chance damaging them, which once again it has done.

It’s all uphill from here, till next time.

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*Of course by “calculated” I mean I made a wild-ass guess heavily larded with wishful thinking. But it does work.