Solstice Clamming
Under the gaze of a brilliant full moon
We stand head-to-head
The toes of our Xtra Tuffs submerged in the sea
The sloshing scrape of the shovelhead against stone
As waves encounter shore
And wind rustles through pine needles and kelp
Carrying bits of our conversations to the moon above
The warm aura of lantern light
Gives way to mud-brown saltwater as we dig.
And clams,
Their shell-backed friends and families
Heard in the distance
Psst…Psst…
Escaping,
Burrowing deeper,
Protecting their rubbery clam necks
From future chowders, dips, and patties.
It is the time of year,
Winter Solstice,
That pagans celebrate the holly, ivy and
Evergreen bough,
The longest day of the year,
And light candles in honor of daylight's return.
But it is this ritual of home
The gathering of boots, tools, warm gloves
The check of a tide book
And the treks across coastline
That is our tradition,
A celebration of winter.
-Kersten Christianson
Sitka, Alaska