Our Inner Pagan

I don’t care who you are or what beliefs get you through the day, something about the summer solstice commands our inner Pagan. I’m not making this up. Imperceptible tendrils of ancient ceremony take root as solstice approaches.Everywhere I look, the subtle blush of anticipation betray the otherwise oblivious. Nature is a determined master.

Call me crazy, it doesn’t matter.Summer solstice plucks primordial, Go ahead – dance, sing, howl at the moon. Let your inner Pagan breathe. Happy solstice.