The Longest Day
by David Blackburn
June 21, 2026
Readings:
The sun and summer are rhapsodized by writers and poets. Today, I’d like to share some readings of authors I connect with. Their prose reflect our values, connect to the long days of summer, and beckon us to open our hearts and minds to the long days of the season.
First, the naturalist John Muir:
“Wander a whole summer if you can. Thousands of God’s blessings will search you and soak you as if you were a sponge, and the big days will go by uncounted. If you are business-tangled and so burdened by duty that only weeks can be got out of the heavy laden year, give a month at least. The time will not be taken from the sum of life. Instead of shortening, it will indefinitely lengthen it and make you truly immortal.”
(John Muir, Our National Parks)
Next, the 20th Century author, philosopher, and curmudgeon, Edward Abbey.
“Men come and go, cities rise and fall, whole civilizations appear and disappear-the earth remains, slightly modified. The earth remains, and the heartbreaking beauty where there are no hearts to break…I sometimes choose to think, no doubt perversely, that man is a dream, thought an illusion, and only rock is real. Rock and sun.”
― Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire
SUMMER SOLSTICE HOMILY
As long as Homo Sapiens have existed, our species has sought ways to define the world around us. Plants, animals, weather, geography, seasons, water…everything. Often, we looked to the divine as the proverbial hand that guided the creation and function of all the elements of life and earth. We also looked to the divine to explain and define sunrise, sunset, the phases of the moon, and the length of day and night. We experienced, noted, and marked the seasonal changes in the length of the day and night, each getting longer and shorter as the year progresses and sought to understand, why?
For thousands of years, cultures and civilizations around the world marked the sunrise of the summer solstice as an important marker of the year. Their cosmology often marked a spiritual high point on this longest day of the solar year. Beyond the divine, there is an element of pragmatism to it, too. Those that marked the solstice often relied upon agriculture for sustenance and survival. The solstice tells us that planting season is in the past, harvest is in the future, and the cycle that marks the start of the year, the winter solstice, is six months away.
Shaped by my undergraduate studies in anthropology and archaeology, I was, and still am, amazed and awed by the number of cultures around the world that built structures, physical and spiritual, to mark the high point of the solar year. In Malta, there are megalithic structures, over 5,500 years old, that mark the summer solstice. The pyramids, Luxor temple and other sites throughout ancient Egypt mark the solstice. England’s megaliths of Stonehenge and Avebury mark the solstice. The Greeks and Romans marked the solstice. Well past the classical age, societies throughout Europe marked the solstice. Civilizations throughout Asia marked the solstice. In the Americas, the Inca, Maya, Aztecs and more marked the solstice. Here in our country, there is evidence of ‘woodhenges’ in Miami, and Cahokia Mounds in Illinois that marked the solstice. In northern New Mexico, Chaco Canyon’s Sun Dagger marks the summer solstice. Perhaps you took note of the recent news that Manhattan’s ‘skyscraper henge.’ As we approached the solstice, the sun was centered down the middle of the island’s west facing streets. Today, we mark the solstice with rituals both sacred and profane.
So, across the ages, we have identified this day as important to the calendar, important to annual cycle of life. We have a broad understanding as to what it meant in the past but why is it resonant today? Culturally, it marks the true first day of summer. It serves as a reminder to make that reservation at the Shore, reserve the spot for your kid’s day camp, and make those final arrangements for the family vacation. We count down the days to finding luscious Jersey tomatoes in the market. We take note of the Unitarian calendar and mark the date in September as our return to services. Do we pause, though, and reflect on the sacred nature of the day? Do we take a moment to mark this point in the cycle of the year, as humans have done for thousands of years? Alas, I don’t. The closest is marveling at the length of the day, mostly by noting how light it is in the morning, looking at the clock, and thinking “damn, it’s early, why is it so light out?” and rolling over to try and go back to sleep. Take a moment tonight to take back the awe and wonder of the longest day. Let’s link to the past generations of humanity, and go outside at 8:36 pm to mark the setting sun on the longest day of the year. Return to that point in 100 minutes when true darkness has descended. Look to the sky and marvel that one cycle has passed and another is beginning. Center yourself around the words of the American poet Wallace Stevens, “The summer night is like a perfection of thought.” So, mark today, the longest day and the shortest night, as we have done for thousands of years. The glorious cycle of light and life, casting its blessing in awe and wonder, bringing life to all.
Readings:
For our second set of readings, I return to word of John Muir
“The grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never all dried at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls. John Muir, John of the Mountains
We end with the author and poet, Henry David Thoureau
“Is not all the summer akin to a paradise?”— Journal, 9 May 1852
Closing Words
As John Muir said, “Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.” Embrace and revel in the sunshine today, on this, the longest day. Let it nurture your soul, your heart, your garden, your family, your life as it has for fellow human beings across the millennia. Go in peace.