Litha

In between, you were out. Strawberry picking with my mother, the punnets and the stained fingers and the ones that never made it home. Playing in Tor woods, that particular green light under the trees. Sunset on the Tor itself, the whole of the Levels going gold beneath it.

And some of those summers were spent in Ireland, which had its own long light and its own magic. It was there, with my aunties, that I first marvelled at the superstitions they lived by. You did not interfere with the fairies, whose homes seemed to be every bush and every mound of earth in the country. Itchy palms meant money coming. The fortune tellers always seemed to find some terrible misfortune in your future, and always, conveniently, had the antidote to hand, the lucky heather you simply had to buy. Red-haired people were treated as almost magical, a kind of everyday superhero. To a child it was intoxicating, a whole world where the unseen was taken seriously.

That is Litha, the longest day, the sun at the very top of its arc. The exact opposite of Yule on the wheel. Where Yule is the longest night and the rebirth of the light, Litha is the longest day and the light at full power, everything green and growing and reaching its peak.

And, quietly, the turning point. From this day the light begins to shorten again. The year has reached its height and now, imperceptibly, begins the long walk back toward the dark. Litha holds both: the peak, and the first step down from it.

What Litha is

Litha is the summer solstice, around 21 June in the Northern Hemisphere, the longest day and shortest night of the year. The sun reaches its highest point in the sky and appears to pause, which is what solstice means, "sun stands still", before beginning its slow return toward winter.

It is one of the four solar festivals, the exact mirror of Yule. Where Yule sits at the bottom of the year, Litha sits at the top. The two solstices are the poles the whole wheel turns between.

Litha is the festival of abundance and power, the year at its most generous. The crops are growing fast, the days are long, the light is everywhere. It is a celebration of the sun at its strongest and a quiet acknowledgement that strength always contains the seed of its own turning. The longest day is also the day the light begins, invisibly, to fade.

The history, in plain English

The summer solstice has been honoured across the ancient world, and Britain holds its most famous monument to it. Stonehenge is aligned to the solstice sunrise: stand at the centre on midsummer morning and the sun rises over the Heel Stone. Whatever else those builders intended, they built to catch this exact dawn, the same way Newgrange catches the midwinter one.

The name Litha comes from Bede, who recorded the Old English names for the midsummer months as Ærra Liða and Æftera Liða, the months before and after Litha. The modern festival borrowed the name during the 20th-century pagan revival.

The traditions cluster around fire and the sun. Midsummer bonfires were lit on hilltops across Europe, blazing through the short night. Herbs gathered at midsummer were held to be at their most potent. People stayed awake to watch the solstice sunrise. The fire on the hill answered the sun in the sky, encouraging it, honouring it, marking the moment of its greatest power before the long decline.

What I do at Litha

Litha is a festival to be spent outdoors and in the light, the way my childhood summers were spent without anyone planning it.

I get into the long day. The whole point of the longest day is that there is more of it, more light, more time outside. Litha is not a festival for indoors. A walk, a hill, water, the green world at its fullest. If you can get somewhere high to watch the sun, all the better. Sunset on the Tor taught me that early.

I mark the turning as well as the peak. This is the subtle part of Litha. It is easy to celebrate the height of the year. It takes a little more to notice that the height is also the turn, that from here the light shortens. Litha is a reminder to enjoy the peak while it is here, because nothing stays at its peak.

It was on one of those Irish summer visits, though we were in London at the time, that my Irish auntie took me to the pictures to see the new Bond film. I was about seven. The cinema seemed the largest space I had ever stood in, and the screen was enormous, and on it was a clairvoyant who read the cards, beautiful and serious and powerful, the cards plainly mattering. Something lit in me that has never gone out. I was already drawn to the cards, but that summer poured petrol on it. I trace a great deal of what I do now back to a seven-year-old in a vast London cinema, watching someone lay out a tarot spread as though the whole world turned on it.

If you want a simple practice: get up for the solstice sunrise, or out for the long sunset, and simply be in the light at its strongest. Name what is at its height in your life right now, and let yourself enjoy it fully, knowing the wheel will turn as it always does.

Strength speaks

The card of Litha is Strength, the sun's confident power made into a person, the inner fire to match the outer one. Let it speak.

"Harness the beast within. You can confidently take on tasks or scenarios that require exceptional effort. You may have cycles of insecurity, but call on the inner big cat, because today you can slay. You have a powerful aura at this time. You can communicate your intentions without resorting to speech. Your actions speak for themselves. You are composed. You wear your heart on your sleeve."

This is Strength, Daughter of the Flaming Sword, Leader of the Lion. Not the brute force you might expect from the name, but the quiet mastery of the lion by a gentle hand. The sun at its peak does not strain. It simply shines at full power. That is the Litha lesson. Allow your beast within a low growl. You can read the full meaning of the Strength card here.

Litha in the tarot

Strength is the festival's card, but the solstice carries others.

The Sun (XIX) is obviously present, though it is Yule's speaking card on this wheel, here it is the light at full blaze rather than newly reborn.

The Emperor (IV) belongs to Litha too, dominion and order at their height, the year ruling at the top of its power.

The Nine of Cups for contentment and abundance, the wish fulfilled, and the Six of Wands for victory and recognition at the year's height.

How to mark Litha

Watch the sun. The solstice sunrise or sunset. Be in the light at its strongest, ideally somewhere high.

Light a fire. The midsummer bonfire tradition, a fire or candle answering the sun.

Gather herbs. Midsummer was when herbs were held most potent. Cut and dry what you grow.

Get outside and stay there. Litha is the long day. Use the light. Water, hills, the green world at its fullest.

Enjoy the peak. And notice it is the turn. Celebrate what is at its height in your life, knowing the wheel turns from here.

Litha 2026 dates

Litha 2027 dates

Litha in the Southern Hemisphere

South of the equator the longest day falls in December, so Litha is a December festival there, mirroring the Northern Yule.

Around the wheel from Litha

Litha sits at the top of the wheel. To see how it fits with the other seven sabbats, return to The Wheel of the Year.

Frequently asked

The longest days of my childhood were enormous, white bread and jam at the start and the Somerset sun finally going down over the Tor at the end, strawberry fields and Tor woods in between. Litha is that bigness, the year at its most generous, the light at full power. Enjoy it completely. And know, the way the old festival always knew, that the height is also the turn.

I will see you under the next moon. And on the longest day, get out into the light.

Yours, Paul O'Mara