Living in the Northern Hemisphere, as I have done all my life, I’ve become used to celebrating the midwinter in December. Of course, those annoying Christians hijacked my lovely Pagan rituals and made it all about them, but I fought back a little this year.

With a three-year-old in the house, we’re never going to escape Christmas completely, but we have been working on moving the emphasis away from a rotund fellow in a red suit who is linked to the virgin birth, and looked at the Solstice, the real midwinter. Just writing that down, I realise that there will be lots of people telling me that winter starts on December 21st, but that’s a modern construct and I think more tied into how shops stock themselves with seasonal items rather than anything to do with the rotation of the Earth and the Sun. The Solstice is when things begin and end, and I’m happy to celebrate it.

In less enlightened times, people went to bed when it got dark, and rose again with the sun. The Solstice for them was a key point in the year. They celebrated by trying to light things up, to chase away the darkness, and that’s what we did. White lights on a green tree, natural decorations made of pine cones and evergreen tree cuttings. We made lanterns and walked the dark streets, banishing the darkness and looking forward to longer and more productive days. It felt good, too.

Of course Christmas, with its ideal of family and gift giving, is not to be forgotten. Christians venerate the day, and non-Christians hang onto the good bits of the story, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But it was good to go back to earlier times, to more natural thoughts, at this time of year.

The one thing we lacked in the celebration of this Northern Hemisphere midwinter was some cold weather. It’s been very, very mild. Maybe next year.