Hairshirt solstice reflects national mood but darkness will not prevail

AFTER WEEKS of white fields, vicious frosts, relentless ice and sharp, brilliant winter light, the chances of a glorious sequence…

AFTER WEEKS of white fields, vicious frosts, relentless ice and sharp, brilliant winter light, the chances of a glorious sequence of solstice sunrises had seemed likely.

No one was expecting rain or clouds, the sun would burst forth into a sky of blue, thus ending the longest night. But it did not go quite to plan.

The view across the famous valley stretching out from the great Neolithic monument of Newgrange, Co Meath, was suspended in shades of silver and grey, broken by dark shadowy trees and ridges concealing hedgerows.

The faithful and curious had gathered yet again to celebrate the beginning of the end of winter but the fragments of conversations were more dominated by tales of crashed cars, broken bones and hungry animals than by wonder at the genius of the late Stone Age farmers who watched the sun and honoured their dead.

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The newly assertive winter appeared intent on continuing a masterclass in global warming. There were no hopeful gazes towards the horizon, no warm rays of sun, only cloud.

The setting was beautiful, the waters of the Boyne still and had anyone dared to sing “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” they probably would have been accused of anti-social behaviour.

The gathered gardaí looked cold but philosophical, while the photographers decided that in the absence of a dramatic sunrise, humans would have to provide the pictures. Two musicians bravely played tin whistles with cold fingers.

A robin landed briefly on one of the tall standing stones, surveyed the scene and flew off, as if aware there would be no morning picnics this time.

The day had begun earlier than usual. At 4am the moon had been as bright as day in a cold, clear sky.

The frozen ground crunched with the sound of compacted European snow. It is unlikely that ballads will be written honouring the road-clearing efforts of Meath County Council and the surest route down the hard, white road leading to Newgrange was a quad and we raced along, creating an icy spray, glancing up at the large white moon.

However, before the eclipse began to slide over the surface, eventually creating the impression of a slightly opened doorway just before it was abruptly closed, an irritating succession of clouds hurried across the face of the moon.

Eclipse watchers dutifully compared notes before moving on to the monument.

There was none of the usual anticipation that happens when there is a chance the sun could appear.

Most of those present wore the contented expression of having achieved something slightly heroic, standing in freezing temperatures.

There were archaeologists lamenting the serious cuts to heritage funding and to research.

The irony of placing heritage tourism, a valuable earner, at risk, was not lost on recession-hit citizens engaged in entertainingly explicit Government bashing.

Minister of State Martin Mansergh arrived wearing his habitual expression of polite despair.

Inside the chamber there were no false promises. This would be a hairshirt solstice, in keeping with the condition of the country.

We could expect only the palest of grey light along the passage. Mary Hanafin, noticeable for her lack of ski wear, was interested and asked questions. It was her second time inside the chamber at the solstice, having been present in 2003 “when the sun did appear”.

The chosen few and sundry interlopers stood in the darkness, a stomach rumbled, and a watery brightness did gather momentum. Scottish astronomer royal Prof John Brown, who twice called for a moment’s silence, spoke about the archaeology of the Orkney Islands, while Prof George Eogan, who has spent his career, researching the Brú Na Bóinne complex, placed the solstice architecture within a wide European context.

Whether in the shadows or bathed in golden rays, the ritual of being at Newgrange offers its own comfort; it is the beginning of the slow return of daylight.

One by one we left the chamber. Above our heads the corbelled ceiling was dry, expect for two thin bands of ice that had formed between two of the carefully layered stones.

Outside it was snowing. Instead of walking into rich sunlight, we emerged into a soft flurry of snow which had already frosted the woollen hats and bare heads of those waiting outside. How would our ancient ancestors have dealt with the cold weather?

Probably better than modern man. The sun might well break through the clouds this morning or tomorrow, but the most important battle has been won. However unlikely it may seem in the current weather conditions, the darkness will begin to yield and the light will return.