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Today is momentous. It is Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year, and the morning when a beam of sunlight penetrates the roof-box at New Grange, traveling up the 19 metre passage to illuminate the chamber. This miracle of engineering and reverence is dependent on the weather, and this morning in county Meath snow clouds hang thick. Though crowds gathered outside the mound, and a select few within, the chamber remained dark. I wonder what it means if the chamber remains cold and dark. Barren.
(photo from a previous year)

Today held another momentous event; the solstice lunar eclipse. The last time this wonder occurred was 1638. I don’t recall what I was doing in the mid-seventeenth century, but I know what I did today. The gentle harp chime woke me at 6am. I slipped out from under the toasty doona, scurried downstairs to put on the fire and make a cup of tea. Out onto the snow covered patio I scampered. Bright in the western sky she shone. Shadow began to pass over her, a sliver then a chunk then half of her radiance was covered, like an eyelid closing. Snow clouds grew thick and I refilled my tea cup. As neighbors started their cars and left for work, I was granted one final glimpse. A gentle red eye low on the western horizon, misty with snowy embrace, watched the first warm glow in the eastern sky. I wonder what it means for her lazy red eye to watch a sunrise too weak to warm the dark chamber of the Brú on the Bóinne.
(as seen in the Scottish Borders)

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