(As explained by someone who’s actually living the magic--Morwenna Willowheart Brightwood, protagonist of Whispers of the Selkie)

Let’s set the scene: the longest day of the year, sunlight stretching across the sky like it forgot how to set, tides behaving like they’ve had one too many enchanted meads, and spells refusing to behave unless you bribe them with elderflower syrup.

Yes, it's the summer solstice, also known in Celtic tradition as Litha—the fiery pinnacle of solar strength, when magic simmers just beneath the surface of every ripple and breeze.

And trust me, when you’ve got Celtic magic stitched into your blood and bones like I do, you feel it.

What’s Actually Happening (Magically Speaking):

• The ancient Celts believed this was the moment the Oak King (symbol of the waxing year) reached his full power, preparing to pass the crown to the Holly King, who rules the waning half. Think seasonal custody battle, but with more bonfires.
• The veil between worlds thins—not in the ghostly, Samhain sort of way, but in the “accidentally opened a portal to a mirror realm while stirring my tea” sort of way.
• Energy from the sun spills over into every living thing. Plants, creatures, spells, emotions—everything gets supercharged. If you're magically inclined, brace for side effects.

 Traditional Celebrations (Now with More Fire and Ferns):

• Bonfires at dawn and dusk: Fire to honor the sun, of course—but also to protect, purify, and maybe keep any wandering fae from inviting themselves into your garden.
• Herb-gathering rituals: Plants plucked on solstice are said to carry double potency. You’ll often find hedge witches elbow-deep in mugwort or hanging bundles of St. John’s Wort to dry in doorways.
• Sacred wells and water rites: Water takes on a heightened clarity and power during Litha. Divination by ripple, tide, or moon-kissed pools becomes less symbolic and more...interactive.
• Dancing, feasting, and offerings: Leave out bread, honey, or sun-charged stones to thank the land spirits—or to keep them from rearranging your kitchen drawers again.

Why It Matters (Especially If You Have Sea in Your Blood):

As someone born of both land and tide, I can confirm: the boundary between sea and shore becomes... negotiable. Magic tied to water—healing, transformation, foresight—doesn’t just hum at solstice, it sings.

• Water-based magic gets unruly. What was once a gentle current can swell into a crashing wave of spellwork.
• Ancient enchantments may activate on their own. Best to avoid handling heirloom jewelry near tidal pools.
• Sea creatures behave oddly. Expect glowing plankton, synchronized fish patterns, or seabirds delivering feathers with messages you didn’t ask for.

 Personal Solstice Survival Tips:

• Double-knot your warding charms. You do not want the summer court of the fae mistaking your living room for a welcome mat.
• Set magical boundaries like you mean it. The veil is thin. If you don’t want dream-ghosts or prophetic kelpies in your bathtub, say so.
• Keep your spells grounded. Literally. Use stones, sand, or salt to stabilize rituals. (Avoid glitter. The spirits hate glitter.)

 Final Thought:

The solstice isn’t just a holiday. It’s a hinge in the wheel of the year, a moment of vibrant, humming pause before the tilt toward twilight begins again. For those of us with old blood and older magic, it’s both a celebration and a responsibility—to balance the light, to listen to what the sun and sea are whispering, and to keep our magic from spontaneously reorganizing the kitchen pantry.

So light a candle. Gather your herbs. Speak kindly to the waves.

And above all else—remember that the old ways aren’t just stories.

 On Litha, they shine.