Painter George Seurat famously said “Let’s go and get drunk on the light again.” With sunrise at 5:09 a.m. it is a bit early for being drunk but I think I know what he meant.
Thursday, June 20th, marked the summer solstice here in the Apostle Islands, the astronomical beginning of summer and the longest day of the year. I wanted to be there to greet the sun, to drink it all in. So I was down at the dock by 3:30 a.m. slipping the Little Dipper out beyond the break wall and up the West Channel, the sun barely a hint in the eastern sky. In between Basswood and Hermit Islands, I throttled back, cut the engine and just drifted. With almost no wind, I sat nearly still in the calm waters, the perfect speed for solstice, a term that combines the Latin words for “sun” and “to stand still.”
To some, the solstice is a celebration, the high point of the year. To those of a less optimistic bent, it is the beginning of the long, slow slide back into darkness. But it was too early in the morning analyze or philosophize. There was a loon calling in the growing light, a small waterfalls singing like harp music strumming a cliff on Basswood Island. It was enough to simply be there, to watch the morning of the longest day of the year unfurl at its own pace while I sipped coffee and drank deeply, drunk on the beauty of such sweet solstice light.
— Jeff Rennicke (all photographs by the author unless otherwise noted)
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