Our descent into darkness is complete; we've reached the longest night, the shortest day and now the earth begins its oh-so-subtle tilt toward springtime. Today is a quintessential darkest day, with wind, rain and falling temperatures. The sun didn't rise until nearly 8 a.m. and it'll set at 4:20, with twilight descending shortly after 3... Even if the sky was clear tonight, the waxing crescent moon would shed little light, being only 23% illuminated - look for a full moon on New Year's Eve to usher in the new decade.
A traditional way for gardeners to celebrate the solstice is to plant garlic, which will be ready to harvest in mid-June on the longest day of the year. I've been marking the solstice by bundling up and getting out into the garden for an hour or so most days, cleaning up, enjoying the robins, chickadees and the Steller's jays rustling around in the leaves. All the bird activity reminds me of this favorite childhood poem by Oliver Herford, a gift to us all in the dark of the solstice:
I heard a bird sing
In the night of December
A magical thing
And sweet to remember
'We're nearer to spring than we were in September'
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.

