The day when the sun is out the shortest. It is the moment when the life of all plants and flowers is stored in its shade. From the forest in our yard, I gathered seemingly dead vines, red berries, brown berries, and branches of trees that are always green to make a large wreath. It is a sign that proclaims the story of rebirth that begins at the winter solstice.
The visible sun is most powerful at the summer solstice and weakest at the winter solstice. The invisible grass roots are most powerful at the winter solstice. It is the moment when death and life share the same face. All life begins at this moment and ends at this moment, it seems. But it repeats the eternal cycle.
An eternal cycle. The cycle does not stay in the same place, but spirals and spins out the next age. Nothing is the same, just as no two moments are the same.