That’s the darkest moment. Now what?

That’s it. Summer solstice. Pretty bright, isn’t it?

I slipped out late on Saturday night to snap some pictures from in front of our house in Edinburgh’s harbour, facing West towards Glasgow, Ireland and America beyond. It’s close to 11pm.

And the sunset is one which veers every second further northwards, towards Iceland more than Manhattan, and which will bounce behind the Fife hills before slipping back up over the horizon on Sunday morning, about 2 hours from now.

I love summer in Scotland, but I love this transition most. As an undergraduate those white nights marked the end of never-ending exams – they did end after all.

As a young teacher, they marked friendship, music, not enough sleep and music all night in a field, before teaching a Friday half-day and heading to the beach for more.

They’re a chance for transition.

Solstice for many is one night of wild. For some it passes barely noticed. For me it is one of about two weeks’ worth of evenings where you have more morning and more evening than at any time in the year you’ve had so far, or in the year to come.

And so what will I do with it?

I have my own plan. What’s yours?