Our last dark hours were longest night; today will be the shortest light.
As always, much will be made of tomorrow supposedly being the shortest day of the year, but it’s not: In truth, it’s today. In our time zone, the solstice occurs at 2:20 AM tomorrow morning, and by tomorrow’s sunset, the light will already have begun to lengthen by that smallest bit once more.
It’s always struck me as odd that colonial cultures insist that the solstice is the first day of winter, irrespective of actual conditions. Plenty f Indigenous societies, including those whose descendants would become colonizers, have regarded such markers as the middle of a season rather than ends and beginnings.
Of course, it’s hard to see it as anything to do with winter at all right now — not with highs hovering around sixty and an ability to walk comfortably outside in shirtsleeves.
That, and the utter lack of anything remotely resembling snow.
Normally, tonight would signify a turning inward, an observance of the last longest night for another year; tomorrow would mark the return of the light, if only for a few moments longer than before. The fact that, at our elevation and in this climate and environment, the cold would be as deep as the snow on the ground would certainly make such observances seem eminently sensible, but we have no such markers now. Normally, we would have found joy in the light upon the snow, the setting sun also setting our world ablaze in the safest possible way, and on of he most breathtakingly beautiful ones, as well. Cold enough, and we might even be granted the sight of sundogs in the western sky, those rainbow-hued shafts of atmospheric light that shimmer and dance as the deliver whatever message the spirits have for us for the year to come.
But there is no snow, and no cold, either, and it seems anticlimactic now. It also seems melancholy, a time not for celebration but for grief, for a world mourning with us for what has been lost so needlessly, heedlessly now.
And yet . . . and yet, there is always the light. Sun by day, moon and stars by night, the occasional rainbow in the storm or sundog in the bitter cold, all of them guardians and guides, forms of medicine and methods of reckoning — of our world, and of our own journey through it.
And despite the terrible state of this wounded world, it is cause for gratitude now.
This week’s Friday Feature is emblematic of these gifts, a trio of tributes to this medicine that keeps the world live, and us with it. It consists of three perfect circles of silver, not the five or the gold of the famous carol, but better-suited to the Solstice and its gifts of the light. All three are found in the Rings Gallery here on the site. We begin with the one that most obviously embodies our world’s source of light, a dance for he season with a ring around the sun. From its description:
Ring Around the Sun Stamped Silver Ring
A ring around the sun is a rare phenomenon, a sign of smoke, a change in the weather, or radiant rainbow light. Wings honors them all with this heavy-gauge, solid sterling silver ring. The simple wide band is cut freehand and filed smooth, deeply stamped in alternating patterns: central suns as traditional eight-pointed stars in the embrace of the ordinal points dancing with deep and radiant sunburst motifs around the whole of the hoop. Band is formed of solid nine-gauge silver, cut 5/16″ wide, and currently sized at roughly 13.75 (dimensions approximate). Sizeable. Other views shown at the link.
Sterling silver
$425 + shipping, handling, and insurance
This is a classic design, band more slender than many, yet wider than most fashion rings. The stampwork that rings it in an illuminating dance is deep, and deeply oxidized, rendering the whole design suitably bold and bright. It’s a wearable reminder that the light is always with us, sustaining our world even in the dark, when the sun is absent from our sight.
The second of today’s featured works is one perfect for these lands, and ironically, for the terribly unseasonal changes we endure now. Sunlight on the Big River, the one just to the west of us that runs southward across all artificial borders, is a daily occurrence even with cloud cover. But these days, with water levels so greatly diminished and the sun so regularly unbroken by anything that might deliver precipitation in any form, it’s now a phenomenon that seems hardened in stone.
Or perhaps cast in silver, a color closer to the truth of it. From this work’s description:
Sunlight On the Big River Hammered Silver Ring
Year-round, the air is filled with the silver shimmer of sunlight on the Big River, ripple and wave and crest, eddy and flow and fall, all gleaming in the high-desert light. Wings captures its shimmer and shine in this hammered silver ring, a classic wide band wrought in a perfect hoop, raised lightly at either edge in a firm border, the space between hammered freehand with scores, perhaps hundreds of strikes of the jeweler’s hammer. Each hammer blow is struck deeply, the better to shift the silver into waves like water running in the light; it’s then is heavily oxidized and buffed to a medium polish, so that each tiny divot and upward slope shows in sharp relief. Ring is 7/16″ wide (dimensions approximate) and currently sized at 14.5. Sizeable. Other views shown at the link.
Sterling silver
$425 + shipping, handling, and insurance
This is hammered, in its way, but it’s not accomplished in the same way as more traditional hammered metalwork is. The latter, like that in the ring below, is done with a mallet whose head is broad relative to the surface it strikes; this one’s pattern is created using a hammer with a very small head, sufficiently so to create actual divot-like patterns in the silver. It’s still hammerwork, and it’s frankly a breathtakingly beautiful effect, and it’s one that, combined with oxidation, gives the surface a rich texture — less shimmer, but great dimensionality and depth.
The third and final of today’s featured works is a reminder to us now, in these days of long dark and deep cold, of the importance of embracing the light. It’s a slightly different design, a finger cuff rather than a ring formed of a solid band, and is therefore self-adjusting. From its description:
Embracing the Light Finger Cuff Ring
We begin each new year by embracing the light, whose return brings us a world renewed. Wings honors both the light and its embrace with this new finger cuff, a ring designed to hold one in silvery reflected and refracted light. It’s a simple sterling silver band, hammered by hand to catch the light, its arc sloping gently upward on either side courtesy of the ring’s graceful anticlastic shaping. Its “cuff” style, one length of silver wrapped and held via the metal’s natural tension rather than a circle soldered together, leaves room for self-adjustment. Note: This particular cuff is made for larger fingers, roughly a size 14; it can be resized a bit, but much more than two sizes downward would require trimming the ends of the cuff. Band is 3/4″ across at the top center, narrowing gradually to 7/16″ at either end (dimensions approximate). Side view shown at the link.
Sterling silver
$375 + shipping, handling, and insurance
This image is deceptive: Shot in Wings’s studio, both the lower edge and a bit of the upper one catch the reflection of items that hang from the ceiling. It looks like tarnish, but it’s not. The image at the very top of this post, one I shot little more than an hour ago, shows the true color and texture of its surface, including its beautiful glow. It has not been polished in the interim; this is the original finish, with not the faintest hint of tarnish in evidence.
This one is unique for another reason — two, actually. First, it’s not a standard ring, one with the band formed into an infinite and unbroken hoop; it’s what’s known as a finger cuff, which is exactly what it sounds like, a strand of silver not connected on the underside, and therefore easily adjusted by the wearer. It is, however, wrought in a larger size to cover all bases, so should someone with much smaller fingers wish to wear it, Wings can trim and file the edges to adjust it accordingly.
It’s also a beautiful example of anticlastic forging. It’s a smithing technique in which the outer edges of a band are raised, sloping gracefully upward, creating a concavity at its center that is oriented on the horizontal. It’s accomplished using a special mandrel, allowing Wings to forge and shape to the desired degree of angle, so that the sides can be either steep or subtle. This one falls between the two, dramatically visible but not drastic, and what one might not expect is that it is an extremely comfortable design, one that prevents the edges of the ring from pressing into the skin of the finger. How do I know? I have two or three of them myself, as well as a couple of anticlastic cuff bracelets.
And, of course, the gently hammered surface of this work catches and refracts the light in subtly elegant fashion.
These three works are all created without the compartmentalization that comes with gendered jewelry. They’re intended for wear by anyone and everyone — simple, spare, traditional works that capture Indigenous worldviews and ways of engaging with that world . . . in a way, perhaps, that might inspire others to try our peoples’ approaches to being and stewardship.
If ever there were a time for the rest of the world to make such changes, it’s now. The Solstice provides a perfect opportunity — The Earth’s own new year, and a new beginning for us all. After all, it’s proof positive of the truth that the light is always with us, with its gifts, its forms of medicine and methods of reckoning the planet and our path and place in it.
And that would be the greatest gift, at this season supposedly of giving, that we could grant to the Earth, and to each other.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2024; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
