My youngest grandson was born on the winter solstice three years ago, at home (not intentionally): grandfather supervising, father delivering and older grandson scurrying off to get twine and a scissors for the umbilical cord. It is such a fantastic memory of our particular family's transit in time and as a consequence I really do like this time of year, and the primeval, axial link with all the generations that have gone before and have yet to come. This years solstice was on the 22nd December and the Blackrock diving platform in Salthill, Galway in a certain light is akin, I often feel, to a solar temple jutting south into the waters of Loch Lurgan (Galway Bay): a Göbekli Tepe; Sneferu's pyramid; a New Grange to our revolving destinies.
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