Post actualizado el día September 27, 2026 by DeiviSanzPlay
On December 21 of last year, that strange Sunday, was when everything was most tilted. It was the entire—it is a precise instant in which the Earth, twisted on its axis, presents its cheek.
The idea that the Sun “stops” (that is what solstitium means in Latin) is, as if it were holding its breath, before deciding to climb again, from light to darkness. It is a slow reversal, almost imperceptible at first, but unstoppable.
The curious thing is that this day, which marks the astronomical start of winter, is almost never the most of the sky and the thermometer never match up.
Not all of us experience it the same way. In Madrid that day there were about 9 of night at the poles, a, snow tourism, coat fashion. It is an astronomical phenomenon that ends up dictating the time a child leaves school in Chicago or when the streetlights turn on in Moscow.
After the solstice, the promise is fulfilled: the days get longer. At first they are a few seconds a day, then minutes. It is such a slow progress that it requires faith. Until one day, without quite knowing when, you notice that the afternoon has not completely faded by five o’clock. That millimeter-by-millimeter return of the light, celebrated with stones, rituals, and festivities for millennia, remains, deep down, the same news: that the cycle has not broken, that what reaches the bottom pushes to return.
