Summer Solstice: Light, Life, and a Spell with Sunflower Seeds
The Summer Solstice marks the tipping point of the year—when the sun reaches its highest place in the sky and the days stretch long and golden. In many neopagan spaces, this festival is known as Litha, though personally, I tend to just say Summer Solstice. It’s the term that feels most rooted and real to me.
I understand the value of names like Litha—they can offer a sense of shared language across different paths—but for me, this time of year feels more like a season than a single day. A stretch of slow afternoons, wildflowers, skin warmed by the sun (ideally, though this isn't always the case in Wales where we can also get a lot of rain, thunderstorms, or even hail at this time of the year). The solstice isn’t something I always celebrate in a formal way. I don’t always have a set ritual. But I always feel it.
I spend more time outside. I linger in the warmth when it's present. I notice how the light catches the grasses in the fields. Some years, I gather St John’s Wort—a bright yellow flower traditionally associated with midsummer—and make an oil by letting the flowers steep. It’s a quiet ritual. A way of bottling some of that Midsummer Magic of connection with the land, the light, and potential.
If you’d like to mark this time in your own way, here are a few thoughts that may help you begin.
✧ Themes of the Summer Solstice ✧
The solstice is the year’s full breath in. It is the Full Moon of the solar cycle.
It’s a moment of abundance, when plants are blooming, fruits are forming, and all the work of the early year begins to show its shape. And yet, it’s also a turning. Even as the light reaches its peak, we know it will begin to wane. There’s a quiet wisdom in that—the reminder that nothing stays still. That fullness is not forever.
This season can be a time to:
- Notice what’s flourishing—in your life, your body, your relationships, your practice.
- Celebrate what’s growing—and tend to it with care.
- Feel into balance—where is there light, and where is there shadow?
- Honour the joy of embodiment—let yourself be a creature of sun and soil, even if only for a moment.
In many older European traditions, midsummer was celebrated with bonfires, dancing, and the gathering of herbs believed to hold extra potency on this day. St John’s Wort, mugwort, vervain, and yarrow were all part of those customs. But you don’t need a field full of wildflowers or a hilltop fire to connect. The sun finds its way in, wherever we are.
A Spell for the Solstice: Sunflower Seed Wishes
This is a very simple practice. One that doesn’t need much—just a little time, a little sunlight, and a handful of seeds.
What you’ll need:
- A few sunflower seeds (the kind you’d plant in the earth, not the kind in a snack bag)
- A small jar, pouch, or even just a bowl
- A place where you can feel the sun, or at least see the light
What to do:
- Take a quiet moment. Sit or stand somewhere where you can feel connected to the season. Let the light touch your skin, if possible. If it’s cloudy, that’s fine. The sun is still there behind the veil.
- Pick up a seed. Hold it in your hand. Let your breath settle.
- Speak into it—not loudly, not dramatically—just gently, as if telling it a secret. A wish, a hope, a prayer. Something you’d like to grow.
- Hold the seed up to the light. Let the sun bless it. Let it soak up the warmth.
- Place the seed in your jar or pouch. You can do this with several, if you like.
Later, you might choose to:
Plant the seeds, letting your wishes grow alongside the flowers
Offer them to the birds, who may carry your hopes into the sky
Keep them for a time, and release them when it feels right
There’s no wrong way to do this. The magic is in the moment. The choosing. The connection.
✧ Living with the Solstice ✧
This season doesn’t ask us to rush. It invites us to be in it. To notice. To open.
You don’t need a ritual unless you want one. A cup of tea in the garden, a barefoot walk across the grass, or even just watching the light shift across the floor—these things count. They always have.
Whatever you’re growing—may it bloom. Whatever you’re longing for—may it find its way. Whatever you’re carrying—may it be warmed by the sun.
If you’d like to celebrate the sabbats and seasons with others who walk this path, I host free community gatherings throughout the year. Sign up for Moonday Magic Mail to receive reflections, resources, and invitations to our community circles.
No pressure. Just an open door.
