Skål to the return of the sun and the promise of a new year filled with light and abundance.
While the landscape may look asleep, it’s anything but. Beneath the frost and bare branches, life is busy recalibrating. Animals, trees, even insects are all reading the same cosmic memo: The light is shifting — adjust accordingly.
This year, in the Northern Hemisphere, the solstice will take place on Sunday, December 21, 2025, at 10:03 a.m. EST.
Start with bringing nature into your home by decorating with evergreen branches, holly and mistletoe, then pull on your coziest sweater, light a few candles or a fire and settle in. Let’s wander through the rich, fascinating world of solstice celebrations — ancient and modern — and explore how cultures across time have marked this turning point with fire, food, reflection, and hope.
Long before modern calendars, so-called Pagan societies held deeply rooted beliefs — gods and goddesses woven directly into forests, fields, animals, and the slow choreography of the sun, moon, and stars. The seasons were not background; they were teachers. The sky above was a living clock.
When Christianity arrived, these older festivals did not disappear. Instead, they were layered over. To make conversion more palatable, new celebrations were superimposed on ancient ones. The rebirth of the sun became the birth of the Son — two different stories, both speaking of light returning to the world.
In Anishinaabe teachings, the winter solstice is a season of storytelling and remembrance — a time to pass down wisdom and honour ancestors through offerings of tobacco, food, or small gifts, reaffirming that all things, including the light, move in cycles.
For thousands of years, humans have celebrated the winter solstice from Druids gathering at Stonehenge to Romans throwing full-blown Saturnalia feasts.
These traditions trace back to Yule, the Norse winter solstice festival rooted in fire, abundance, and togetherness. The famous 12 Days of Christmas? Also a Yule legacy. So is the Yule log, once a massive log burned for up to 12 days. Today, it lives on in a sweeter form — as the much-loved log-shaped cake.
For my Scandinavian ancestors, the darkest days of the year were sweetened by an old and familiar kind of winter magic; holiday baking. Kitchens filled with the scent of cakes, breads, buns, tarts and strudels — all prepared to welcome the sun’s slow return.
For farmers, gardeners and foragers. feasting wasn’t indulgent — it was survival. This time marked the end of fresh harvests, and communities depended on stored foods: root vegetables, grains, dried fruits, and preserved meats. Livestock herds were carefully thinned to conserve feed, transforming necessity into communal meals of roasted meats and hearty stews.
At the heart of it all was fire. Ancient kitchens revolved around hearths and open flames, providing warmth, light and a gathering place where stories were shared as food slowly cooked.
That same instinct remains with us. Even now, we are drawn to fire — to linger, to let it hold us together through the cold.
Gathered around the fire — where warmth, stories and winter magic still meet. Monika Rekola photo
Solstice feasts also remind us of the beauty of season seasonal eating at its best. Pickled vegetables, dried apples, smoked meats and cold-hardy crops like kale, squash and potatoes shine this time of year. If you’ve preserved your garden’s bounty, this is your moment to enjoy it.
Here are a few recipes to get you started:
As the longest night settles in and the old magic returns — a pot left to simmer. Wassail — a solstice brew of apples, citrus, spice and intention. Simmered low and slow to welcome back the sun.
And once the cup is poured and the chill pushed back from the bones, why not channel a little Viking spirit?
They didn’t shy away from the cold; they thrived in it.
Viking stews were often rich and filling, made with whatever was local, seasonal, and available. This version is made with root vegetables like carrots, parsnips, and potatoes, a generous portion of slow-cooked beef, and a good splash of dark beer or cider for that hearty depth.
The secret?
Let it simmer for hours, filling your home with the scents of herbs and earthy goodness.
Maustekakku, as it’s called in Finland, translates to “spiced cake” and is a cake filled with lots of warming holiday spices like cinnamon, ginger, cloves, cardamom and allspice.
This is a very simple cake presented without fuss. There is nothing quite as delightful and satisfying as having a slice of this cake with a cup of coffee or tea, or even a glass of gløgg, especially on dark, cold winter nights.
Sweet, baked pears meet the richness of honey, berries, and blue cheese for a simple yet elegant dessert that feels like comfort and luxury in every bite.
After feasting embrace the chill
Take in the quiet beauty of the winter landscape. Take a solstice walk. Notice animal tracks in the snow and bask in the deep stillness. Listen closely and you might hear the call of a Great Horned Owl claiming its winter territory.
And, as I settle in by the fire, I invite you to do the same.
Stay warm, my friends. May your night be long, your fire bright and your heart full of light.
Inspired by Savage Daughter, written by Wyndreth Berginsdottir - Notable performance by Ekaterina Shelehova
Monika Rekola is a certified landscape designer and horticulturist, passionate about gardening, sustainable living and the great outdoors. Contact her at [email protected].
