Riding Goats into May - A Nod to Walpurgisnacht

The wind has been howling at the windows for three days, and although the sun has done its best to shine in between spring rains its heat cannot compete with the biting cold that the tempests have blown in. I don't mind the last gasps of winter, the final shake of Frau Holle's feather blanket that resulted in rain-snow-hail this past weekend. In my mind and dreams the Wild Hunt is riding a frenzied race across the skies to the peak of the Harz to celebrate winter's end and the coming of summer. I need a fast goat who likes altitude, because I want to go too.

We have arrived in the season of lush festivity. And let's face it, in days of old if you made it through the winter without succumbing to disease or starvation there was definitely something to celebrate. Feasting on spring greens and shoots, lighting bonfires to chase off the winter and to cense your livestock, jumping brooms and fires (and jumping each other - it's a very fertile time of year after all), were some of the activities that folks embraced as the days grew long.

The last day of April marked Hexennacht, when it was said that witches rode to their sabbath at the Brocken in the Harz mountains of Germany. The saint Walpurga/Walburga who was called upon to aid in protection from witchcraft was canonized on May 1st, conveniently overlapping her eve with the night of the witches. Walpurisnacht (Walpurga's night) became both the time when witches were out on their revels and when people would employ protections for their homes and livestock to keep them safe from witchcraft. It's a wicked merry-go-round, isn't it?

If May dawned and you made it home from the mountains or your woodland frolicking, then you might bathe yourself in the morning dew to ensure youthfulness for another year. You could find yourself spinning ribbon around a maypole with village folk, guising or dancing in a parade through the streets, or preparing to lead your cattle between two bonfires to bless them with vitality.

There are more stories of folk practices and debaucherous frolicking than I have time to tell while the hours of April slip away, but I wanted to share a few words from others here - snippets from people and books I enjoy that speak to the spirit of this celebratory time. I'll be out by the fire tonight (if the wind cooperates) and I'll lift a glass to see the Old Woman of winter off. If you hear me howling, send a howl back. I know you're out there bringing in the May in your own way.

Bernard Zuber

"Some call it Walpurgisnacht or Beltane or May Day, and the days of observance may shift minutely, but the general celebration remains the same. It is a grand day of festivity and rejoicing, an ode to vanquishing the dark and looking forward to a green and glorious future. It is a time for joyous feasting and the encouragement of growth, a time for lovers and life.

In Blacktree, however, we see Hexennacht as a night when witches fly to their own gatherings and revels. On this night, we also acknowledge and honor our genus loci and other land spirits. For us, Hexennacht is literally a night of witches; it says so right in the name. On this night, we howl at the moon, wild in our power and in love with our very nature as witches. We connect deeply with the land and spirits around us."

Besom, Stang & Sword, Christopher Orapello and Tara-Love Maguire

"Although officially sanctioned by the church as the feast of Saints Philip and James, May Day celebrations in England smothered religious veneration with fertility rites suggested by flowers and fires. The notorious lecher, King Henry VIII, took great pleasure in his court's floral masquerades and the sexual license of Mayings. The common people had fun with setting up maypoles, lighting bonfires, playing football, running races, morris dancing, and flirting. Villagers were sent into the woods where they would cut down a maypole (that most obviously phallic symbol) to erect in front of the parish church, and many young couples, it appears, got "lost" for the night in the woods to enjoy semi-clandestine love."

Ritual in Early Modern Europe, Edward Muir

"Beltane rituals are still held. Traditionally bonfires are lit. To heal infertility, people creep through bonfires, jump over them, and run between them. Once upon a time, they also made love amongst the bonfires, although to avail yourself of this power you may have to build private, personal fires."

Beltane Bonfire Spell, The Encyclopedia of 5000 Spells, Judika Illes

"Walpurgisnacht" by Albert Welti 1897

"A Munich vesper from the fourteenth century mentioned a Brockelsburg as being an abode of nocturnal ghosts and witches. Such "buck mountains," "hay mountains," or "heathen caps," where the last heathen festivals took place, were found throughout Europe. The most famous of these is the Brocken, in the Harz mountains of Germany. The "witches" usually gathered there on Walpurgis night. They danced the last winter snows away in "participation mystique." In the sagas they danced so vigorously that they danced through the soles of their shoes."

Witchcraft Medicine, Muller-Ebeling, Ratsch, Storl

Bernard Zuber

This charm may well be the 'vesper' spoken of above. I've included a small snippet here if you are the sort to quake at witches flying overhead and want a few words of protection to whisper as you drift off to dream. (I'll try not to wake you as I streak by on my goat.)

May the supreme Numen divinium,

may the holy sanctus spritius,

may the sacred sanctus dominus,

again protect me this night

from the evil creatures that roam the darkness

and I sign myself

against the black ones and the white ones

whom people call the Good ones

and who leave from Brockelsberg

- excerpt from a 14th-15th century charm,
published in Lecouteux's Phantom Armies of the Night

I wish you wildness and firelight. Frenzied joy and good feasting. Kisses and dances and all the merrymaking you desire. May your earth and home and family be fruitful.

Happy Witches' Night. Happy May!

The Great October Giveaway - Sabbat Sign

Thank you again for joining me this year, it was a delicious amount of fun for me! I did receive all your email entries and just about gave myself carpal tunnel by writing out all your names (twice, at times). Thank you for making me smile and for digging the books and goodies and folks I've featured this year. Do click through all the photos and links, and track these authors and artists down, too.

My internet dropped out yesterday during our first snowstorm of the season, so I'm a bit late in posting this, but...the lucky soul taking home Aidan's beautiful work is:

Jennifer Larochelle

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You know it is coming. Every year. The last day of October. The haunt of all haunts. The motherlode of candy. The scent of scorched pumpkin, spent firecrackers, and the bonfire smoke on the wind. The laughter and the screams of all the little monsters running amok. And all that before you engage in your own festivities. Samhain reigns from dusk on the 31st until sunset on November 1st, and whether you observe the sabbat or simply frolic with Halloween glee, the finale of October is definitely something to celebrate.

To wind up our October fun here at Rue and Hyssop, I've saved the witch's best accessory for last. A striking talisman, Sabbat Sign, created by the marvelous Aidan Wachter. If you don't know Aidan yet, you need to. A superior precious-metal artist, author of Six Ways (soon-to-be-released from Red Temple Press), and just a sincerely awesome person, Aidan has generously offered up one of his sigils to a very lucky trick-or-treater.

I'll let his own words speak for this stunning piece:

The Sabbat Sign came about while working on an altar piece (which also produced the Descent piece). While they contain strong Saturnal and Neptunian aspects, the story they tell is of those who engage in spirit flight, like witches flying to the Sabbat. They also have resonance with Lucifer and the Watchers. They come in two forms, ascending and descending. This is the ascending or upright form...

These next three days are alive with magic and remembrances. Go out into the world and make merry (or make mischief) on your Halloween, Samhain, and All Saint's Day, but have your name in the hat here by All Soul's Day (November 2nd) at 8 pm Pacific time in order to have a chance at gathering up this lovely silver sigil.

Once again, your comment counts as your entry. If the comment form isn't working out for you, drop your name in the hat by using the "contact me" button up top. If you'd like a second chance at this gorgeous piece, please share Aidan's shop, or link to one of his pieces that catches your eye, at your favourite social media site and then stop back here and let me know and I'll put your name in the hat again.

Thank you so much for joining me this year - it's so fun for me to see familiar names flying by each October, and extra lovely to meet new folks. Immense thanks to the wonderful authors and artists that lent a hand this month in making this another enchanting Great October Book (and cards, and amazing art) Giveaway. I could never pull this off without you!

Happy Halloween, and a bewitching Samhain to you!

Legal Bits:

* This giveaway (or "sweepstakes") is open to all residents of Canada, (exluding Quebec residents) the USA, Great Britain, Europe, South America,  who are 18 years of age or older. This giveaway is void where prohitibited by law.  Please be aware of the contest/sweepstakes laws in your area.

*  Canadian residents will be subject to a skill testing question before being able to claim their prize (this is standard law in Canada).  The skill testing question will be in a form similar to: 1 + 2 - 1 =

*  This giveaway is not for profit and no purchase is necessary to enter.

*  This giveaway is sponsored/administrated solely by this blog/blog author and is not affilitated with or sponsored by Blogger, Facebook, Twitter, or any other entity, nor can they be held liable.

* By leaving a comment intending to enter into the draw for the giveaway (or "sweepstakes") you are knowingly agreeing to these rules/conditions.

I have chosen all the books/cards featured this month myself.  I have not been paid to feature a book, nor have I been asked to advertise for anyone.  This giveaway is not endorsed or sponsored by anyone other than Rue and Hyssop

Marking Time and Tide

On the first evening of August, the immense black locust offered dappled shade until the sun slipped over the western hill. I have always loved that tree, and the wide swing that hangs from a massive branch. There were days, a decade ago now when it seemed that I had more time, I would sneak away from work on a summer afternoon and steal into my friend's parents' yard with a book, and sit on that swing beside the small pond with the burbling waterfall. Now the pond is still and the garden is overgrown. Though the dozen birdfeeders have come down, the quarter acre is still brimming with avian life and happy bumblebees. The roses have all bloomed despite their mistress forgetting their names. The hollyhocks and foxgloves have grown tall and continue to flower, lending to the fae quality of the land that skirts the guardian tree.

I have wondered if the birds miss the man that fed them everyday. He has been gone two months now, and his wife has had her memory stolen, though she can still remember a few old stories from the days she used to go dancing with her husband. She cannot recall her plants anymore, their variety, or where they came from. Seventeen years ago she took a piece of land, bare but for a large black locust tree, and crafted an oasis of beauty and magic. She created meandering paths and hidden 'rooms' - a secret garden if ever there was one. Now she has moved in with her daughter and the house is being emptied and put up for sale. Life is change. There is no stopping the tides. The new little lines around the edges of my eyes remind me. The quiet pond and the enchanted garden grown wild, echo the sentiment.

That place, untended yet still so magical, hosted witches who came together to mark time and create poppets with corn husks, and work with old keys and a cauldron. It gifted us the whispers of cool wind through the sanctuary of lush green, and the sounds of the winged ones settling in as the day waned. At the place where memories faded, our own remembrances were laid out for each other. Stories were told. Sighs were deep. August was ushered in with benevolence and quiet good cheer.

Some sabbats and observances can be raucous or racy, dark and hushed, solitary or rung in with a host of others. I am just as likely to forego a formal celebration as heed one, and equally teeter-totter between wanting company in my revels and preferring solitude. I have spent the bulk of my sacred time this year, from the winter of my discontent to the sweltering late July afternoons, with almost entirely my own company and that of the spirits that find me vaguely pleasing, laying my workings and altars out and wandering the scrub desert and forest. I have left libations at crossroads, communed with a crow that leaves feathers (and at times the egg of another bird) on my doorstep, burned endless woods, herbs, and papers in fires in my backyard under the watchful stars, sacrificed my own blood and tears to the land that allows me to live on it, and I am content enough working these and other rites on my own. But that night beneath the thorny sentinal that was once struck by lightening during a summer storm, it was truly lovely to mark the shift of time and light with company.

August is often considered the sticky, oppressive step-sister of July. Those who do follow a wheel-of-the-year of sorts often shun the idea of First Harvest at this time, assuming "harvest" harkens to more autumnal weather and activities. While here in The Valley the lakes are warm and the beaches are packed with strange sun-worshipping creatures, this is in fact the height of our harvest. At the farm stands and farmers markets you can find everything from the very last cherries of the season to the earliest pears and fall squash. Almost every crop that can be grown in our climate is available now, and I am putting up jars of boozy peaches and plums while skewering all the local vegetables I can get my hands on and searing them on the bbq. My farmer friend has her first planting of corn almost ready to pick and there will be a bonfire celebration to mark the bringing in of the ears. Corn on the cob with a whiskey-butter sauce will share the table with savory corn fritters and corn chowder, and far too much local wine.

This past weekend, while wandering in the eastern hills, there was a bite in the wind that has not been present in the last months. The tips of some of the deciduous trees up the mountain are starting to blush. The wild elderberry is hung heavily with its dusty purple fruit, and the goldenrod is nodding along the roadsides. I don't observe month or season because I am told to in a book, or as part of a practice someone else has laid out for me (though I am not opposed to being inspired). Instead, I note that the fruit of the wild apple tree is fat and flushing. I look to the sky and see that the big dipper tilts its cup overhead to the north west, just above my eyebrows. A few months ago I had to crane my head back to see that great bear, and in a few more months it will wander closer to the northern horizon, past my nose and out of sight. By that time Orion and his pup Sirius will return in the east to keep me company.

I enjoy a celebration. Life can become a string of weight-bearing days that pinch not just our backs, but our spirit if we aren't inclined to find joy. I chose to greet August with breath and blood (the mosquitoes were well fed that night) and blessing. Each year offers another chance at shifting and adjusting our observations as we watch the earth find its rhythm. This year the self-heal bloomed late and the tansy flowered early. The dandelions were not nearly prolific enough for my tastes, but the plantain and wild mustards were showing off everywhere. There were more summer storms than I can ever remember seeing, and as a result we have had almost no wildfires. There are new red-tailed hawks in the area, and so many twins born to the mule deer this year that it seemed like everyone had fawn lawn-ornaments in their yard. I can think of dozens of reasons to revel, without much effort.

One day, not too far off, our own memories may begin to fade. We might forget the name of the handsome Joe Pye that stands so tall in our garden. We might neglect the offerings to birds or spirits that we once gave so steadfastly. Until the time that I can no longer remember why I love the rowan tree that sits at the edge of the four-way crossroads, or recall that the lake that hides a monster also holds a key and herbs from a garden two thousand miles away; until I cannot tell you why I delight in staghorn sumac or damson plums, I will continue to mark the months, the seasons, the way the light shifts and changes, the land's many harvests, and the traveling stars.

I hope that your own harvests have begun to come in, lush and rewarding. I have heard from many that this year has been difficult thus far, so I am sending my own good wishes, via milkweed seeds and the upcoming Perseids, out into the world for you. Look up.

This Shifting and Turning

Tonight I sat outside and watched the sky blush pink. It was not the deep rose-purple of a summer sunset.  Instead the shade was a coral colour, stretching into tints that mimicked the salmon that are returning to our river to spawn.  It was warm, both in the hue of the sky and here on earth. The sultry months have extended their reach and show little sign of moving on just yet.

Monday or Tuesday, depending on your time zone, marks the autumnal equinox although the days and nights will not be equal here in the Valley until September 25th, when the sun will rise at 6:48am, and set at 6:49pm. By then, if we're lucky, we may see the tiniest sliver of new moon in the west, just before dark.  It all speaks of plentitude, harmony, and the continued journey (seeming ever-so-rapid these days) of our lives as we rocket around the sun.

After taking a good look at what our work has brought in as harvest, it only seems right to celebrate and acknowledge our own labour, as well as the unseen hands (hooves, paws, claws) that tend to us. It is a lovely time for a feast, a dance around the flames, or a literal (or figurative) roll in the hay as the final crops are laid bare in the fields.

I've started burning things again - as I do.  This year some of the herbs were very happy so there has been a surplus of dried stalks to save for future fires.  Tonight I was fumigated by sprigs of lavender and sagebrush twigs, and I was so thankful for the simple pleasure of having a fire bowl in my backyard to linger over.

This year has been transitory (aren't they all, really) and as well as flying by, it has seemed to take on the task of preparing me for what's to come in the next few years.  I'm sensing a big change, but I haven't quite grasped the edges of it yet.  Time will tell.  In the meantime, I'm working with a naturopath, taking a few online courses, tending the bumper crop of tomatoes, carrots, beets, and cucumbers, and gearing up for the October madness that waves hello from just over that hill...

Will you celebrate the delicious descent into autumn?  Will you feast, fire, and dance, or quietly give a nod to the movement of the hour hand of the year?

I hope it blesses you, this shifting and turning, I truly do.

The Depth of Summer

We are easing into the deepest expanse of summer here in The Valley.  At the farmers market, there are still signs of earlier crops - an occasional grower that has found a way to shelter his lettuce through the fiercest heat of July and the reappearance of strawberries from ever bearing plants - but the full bounty of the sun-drenched season is now on display, nearly toppling over the market tables.

That means onions and carrots share space with peaches, apricots, and nectarines.  Early plums and apples have appeared.  Pickling cucumbers and all manner of summer squash fill baskets in dizzying numbers. Heirloom tomatoes in wild colors and designs are proudly displayed and the poor hot-house growers (who were so valued in the cooler months) are passed by for field grown treasures.  The harvest is staggering.

July was a whirlwind of constant garden care, due to the surprisingly lengthy heat wave. We are used to hitting or hovering close to the 100 degree mark for a week or so in July, but this year we've had a three week heatwave that has only just today allowed a storm system to creep in and drop a minuscule amount of rain.  The cloud cover has blessedly encouraged a brief drop in temperature, and while the evenings of the last several weeks refused to let the heat go as dusk settled in, we are finally experiencing some cooler nights.

Last night there was a small First Harvest celebration at my friend's farm, where we tasted the first corn of her crop (the very crop that was just thigh-high two weeks ago in the last post!)  The corn is tender and perfect, but not quite as sweet or full as my friend would like it, and so the first real picking for public consumption will happen later this coming week. It's miraculous what some water and sun will do to that field in just a few days.

Whether the corn was up to her standards or not, we had a grand time last night moaning over the kernels popping in our mouths, butter dripping off our lips.  There was talk of the harvests of our lives, and seasons passing, and of how many years we'd been gathering as friends to cheer each other on, or simply hold each other up.  

There will be another feast yet. When the corn is good and ready, we'll invite not just our closest friends, but throw the gates wide and welcome all who want to take part in the celebration of the culmination of another planting season.  There will be corn fritters, and corn chowder, and my friend's spicy tequila butter sauce for those who like their corn on the cob with a little kick.  I'll be sure to share the recipes!

In the between time, before we notice the sumac start to turn from deepest green to blazing red, while we still run to the lakes for respite and eat entire meals around a bbq (or right out of the garden,) I'm wishing you a grand First Harvest, Lughnasadh, Lammas, or whatever observance you might be enjoying at the moment.  

Even if it is simply the celebration of the perfect cob of corn!

Grateful Solstice

Mint about to become a mojito. 

The early summer heat has given way to rains and cooler weather.  Today was nothing but on and off torrents of water.  It's leaving the gardens, grass and wilds greener than normal for this time of year.  But then "normal" isn't really something you can gauge anymore.  I live in an area that is considered semi-desert, but it has not lived up to its name for quite some time.

My plans for the solstice tonight included a midnight mugwort harvest in the garden as well as a simple ritual by candlelight in the darkness of the yard, but the soggy weather has thwarted those appointments.  I made a nice dinner for my parents last night with some lovely solar-themed food and mojitos with mint from the garden - so that little delight will have to count as my Litha celebration.

The rains do bring a respite from the flurry of activity of the past two weeks.  Trying to keep up with the herbs that need harvesting and either drying, infusing or tincturing and the veggie gardens that need weeding and thinning and staking, has been an adventure.  If it were my only project, I'd revel in the gardens up to my neck in dirt.  But there are nieces to taxi around to jobs and final exams, a day-job that is knee-deep in our busy season, and a kitty that has decided to start over-grooming herself due to...stress...a bug bite from the garden...a run-in with one of the other cats...I'm not sure - and I'm a worrier when it comes to sick kitties.  (I see more mojitos in my future.)

For the moment, I am watching the sky darken early under the cloud cover and listing the things I'm grateful for.  Reminding myself of the amazingness among the insanity is key to a restful sleep and the will to get up tomorrow and do it all over again.

For now, I will think of:

~ the wild, rapid-fire laugh of my niece.

~ the scores of sugar-snap peas ripening daily on the vine.

~ having a day job that allows me to make up whatever hours I like as long as the work gets done.

~ chai tea in my favourite mug.

~ the smell of rain in the morning.

~ the crazy-beautiful, Tim Burton-esque mini foxglove that bloomed for the first time.

I hope you have a delightful Summer Solstice and find more than enough to be grateful for!

A Bright and Happy May To You!

We have been rambling all of the night,

The best part of this day;

And we are returning here back again

And we've brought you a garland gay. 

A bunch of May we bear about

Before the door it stands;

It is but a sprout and it's all budded out

And it's the work of God's own hand.

Oh wake up you, wake up pretty maid,

To take the May bush in.

For it will be gone and tomorrow morn

And you will have none within.

(One of many versions of the May song. Found here.)

Have you stumbled home from your May eve frolicking?  Feeling a little wobbly from all that dancing on the Brocken?  Good on you for having some Walpurgis cheer! 

The basket above is not the traditional May basket - but it's my kind of spring happiness for sure.  Chickweed, plantain and dandelions are awaiting their new incarnations as tea, tincture and healing salve.  

I washed my face in the morning dew before the sun broke over the hills this morning.  (I've got to keep that glow somehow,) and I'm rather happy to see that while April ended with snow on my lawn, May has begun bright and warm with clear, blue skies.  

May blessings to you!

Busy Beltane

It has been a whirlwind week!  I took a quick trip to Seattle a week ago, for a women's business seminar, and then had two brief office days before I rushed out again for a weekend at a Spring Festival.

April has been a strange mix of weather and energy.  The full moon last week threw me off a bit and I'm still trying to catch up on my sleep.  The above pic was taken last Sunday.  Fresh snow fell on the hills just above where I live.  I was fortunate to have great weather while I traveled to both events, but today one weather system after another came rushing through the valley.  Rain, hail, snow, sunshine, wind - we've had it all.  I stood beneath the cherry tree this morning, while a snowstorm of blossoms came down around me.  They are so fleeting - I'm glad I enjoyed them when I had the chance.

We are also half-way through a week long Beltane celebration.  The lunar Beltane was on Thursday, Walpurgisnaucht or May eve is tomorrow, and the astrological Beltane is on the 4th I believe.  That's a good week of frolicking!  We are hitting that lovely in-between time again, across the calendar from Samhain, when 'thinness' between the worlds allows for us to witness or indulge in spirit play.  Read your cards tomorrow night, try some fire scrying at your bonfire, connect with meditation.  Just don't drink the faery wine!

A Chant For Beltane - Doreen Valiente

Friends that in the circle stand,
Heart to heart and hand to hand,
Bringing Beltane to the land,
Let the sleeper wake!
Let the flames of Beltane burn,
May the Old Ones now return,
May we of their magic learn,
Let the sleeper wake!
Let the streams and fields be pure,
Earth and sky be clean once more,
Love and laughter long endure,
Let the sleeper wake!
Forests spreading, peace returning,
Where the pagan fire’s burning,
Now the inner light discerning,
Let the sleeper wake!
May the Lady’s touch again
Rest upon the barren plain,
With the sunshine and the rain,
Let the sleeper wake!
Beltane magic here we sing,
Chant the rune and dance the ring,
Joy and blessing shall it bring.
Let the sleeper wake!

Poem found here.

There Is Movement

As January comes to a close and some of us get ready to observe a celebration or two this week, I am feeling grateful for the slight shift I've been noticing the last few days.  The light is coming earlier, if only by minutes and we are getting more days that offer moments (and sometimes hours) of sunshine.  The grey is far from over, but with February's arrival, it feels as if there is an end in sight.

First on the list is celebrating Imbolc this weekend.  I wrote a little article on Imbolc over at Kallan's blog last weekend, so I won't repeat myself here.  I know this is not necessarily a "winter is over" celebration for much of the northern US or Canada, but there are plenty of signs that the earth is stirring from her long sleep.

Although I've never had any real experience with Catholicism, the blessing of the candles at Candlemas seems to carry over into some secular or other spiritual traditions in the form of crafting candles for the year's rituals or offertory lights.  I've grown weary of unhealthy mass-produced candles and am attempting to pour some candles myself this weekend.

I've found a fun book by a Canadian author about Candlemas traditions in eastern Canada.  My father told me about the Acadians, how they had been French settlers who were pushed from their homes after many battles with the British.  A few brave souls stayed on the in the area, but many of them headed south and settled in the Mississippi River area and other regions.  Some, after a time, came back north and re-settled in the Maritimes.  

Folklore historian Georges Arsenault has written several books about the Acadian traditions and folklore, but I've only found two that have been translated into English. (I'm a terrible Canadian - and don't read or speak French well.)  I picked up his "Acadian Traditions on Candlemas Day" recently and have enjoyed the stories of the old timers that he quotes as well as the songs and folklore he has dug up.  You can see quite a similarity between Acadian traditions and some of the traditions of the deep south.  One practice that is quite popular is the eating of pancakes on Candlemas Day to ensure a good crop for the year.  It is implied that eating wheat in some form symbolizes a good harvest, and saving a pancake ensures that there will always be more wheat.  More interesting is how the Acadians hid toys or trinkets in the pancakes as a way of divination for the year (akin to the King Cake.)

Do not buy this from the US Amazon site - people are charging hundreds of dollars for Arsenault's books.  

Amazon.ca has them priced for $11-$13. 

Of course, one of the most popular traditions on the first days of February is the prophetic mammal that hints at the coming spring (or lingering winter.)  The Acadians spoke of the "whistle-pig" but we know him as the groundhog today.  There is also folklore that puts the skunk or other small mammals in this prognosticating position.

As the ground thaws, the hibernating ones reappear and the small signs of early spring emerge, may you find your own way to celebrate and return to life.  However January fades out and you welcome February in, I hope there is wonderful movement for you!

  

Soul Cakes

A soul! a soul! a soul-cake!

Please, good Missus, a soul-cake!

An apple, a pear, a plum or a cherry,

Any good thing to make us all merry.

One for Peter, two for Paul,

Three for Him who made us all.

(1891)

A Hallow's tradition of old Ireland and Britain, involved the door-to-door begging of soul cakes.  These cakes, which were more like the sugar cookies I bake today, with added cinnamon and nutmeg, were usually marked with a cross to signify that giving them was a religious practice (think, giving alms to the poor as a sign of virtue.)  The cakes, referred to as "souls" were given to the poor and the children in exchange for singing and saying prayers for the dead.

A lovely and haunting take on the soul cakes song, sung by Kate and Corwen, can be heard here.

You can find a recipe for soul cakes here.

A soul cake is just one of many things you might wish to leave out for your ancestors this Hallows.

Welcome Autumn

As autumn officially begins today and tomorrow, I am headed off to my annual Wise Woman weekend.  These next few days are packed full of classes that cover every topic from belly-dancing to hands-on healing techniques, to trance, poppet-making and drumming and so much more.  This is my movement into a more enjoyable, introspective season than the craziness of summer.

I will be celebrating the equinox in a myriad of ways, including a quiet ritual when I get home on Sunday, but if you are looking for a way to welcome in autumn, there are always plenty of ideas floating around the interwebs.

Here is just a tiny list of wonderful bloggers and their Autumn Equinox/Mabon ideas:

Mrs. B (aka Kris Bradley) posted a link to simple candle ritual that she wrote a few years back.  It's perfect if you just want to take a moment to reflect on the season.

Over at Octoberfarm (a must-stop for recipes year-round,) Joyce has been bringing out her impressive Halloween collection.  There are vintage and rare decorations as well as newer acquisitions.  You've got to see all her wonderful pieces!

Over at The Witch of Howling Creek, Tenae is working on her Witches' Compendium, and her Mabon issue is out.  Check it out here.

Rowan Pendragon has also been working hard and has released a 78 page e-book full of Mabon lore, spells and ideas.

And as always, a great place to go is over to About.com and check out Patti's Pagan/Wiccan page for history, practices and decorating tips for this wonderful time of year.

If you are really ready for October and Halloween/Samhain, head over to some of the links on my sidebar - there are some fun blog parties coming soon - and I have a big surprise for my readers here next month.  Great things are afoot for fall!

Don't forget to add your name to the Virgo Giveaway!

Happiest Autumn Equinox to you!  May your harvest be plentiful and your fall days be bright and beautiful.

Welcome August!

"Fairest of the months! 

Ripe summer's queen

The hey-day of the year

With robes that gleam with sunny sheen

Sweet August doth appear."

- R. Combe Miller

A very happy August to you!  The days have flown and July is finished whether I was prepared to be done with it, or not.  I spent the last few days of that hot month in Oregon where I was dancing with the fae at Faerieworlds.  What a weekend!  I'll post some pictures soon, but for now I'm still trying to catch up on my sleep and garden duties.

"He that has a good harvest, must be content with a few thistles." ~ Spanish proverb

I'm surprised how much is fading now.  It seems like these globe thistle flowers had just bloomed and the neighbour's rose of Sharon was only beginning to open its giant purple blossoms - but today I noticed the petals on the ground and the bees busily combing the thistles as they begun to wilt slightly.

Out in the valley hills, the wild rose hips are ready for picking.  I've got to head out very early one morning this week to harvest.  The weather is stifling hot, so any work outdoors is still relegated to the morning hours.  I wanted to have a First Harvest fire in my fire bowl today, but the hot, dry weather meant that any sparks would be a hazard.  My Lughnasadh fire tonight will be contained in my cauldron.  It will consist of some of the dried stems of herbs I've harvested thus far this year.  Yarrow, sage and lavender will make a lovely scented fire.

This first harvest is traditionally about grain.  I don't grow grain or cereal crops, although I've tried my hand at corn, but the stalks produce little if anything and are used as decoration more than food.  My harvest altar is pitifully lacking a corn or wheat dolly this year.  There are plenty of great posts out about the sabbat today (here and here) so I won't delve too much into the traditions and history involved in the day.  I tend to think of summer's winding down as a time to reflect on what worked this year thus far, and what hasn't.

What I love about August is that there is still time.  Still time to put in some late summer crops that enjoy the cooler autumn weather.  Still time to change my plans if they are not producing the desired effect.  Still time to work on my goals and desires before winter sets in.  There is still plenty of time to play in the sun!

Wishing you a blessed Lughnassadh, Lammas, First Harvest, August!

Farmers Market Saturday - Leftovers and Lughnassadh

Last Saturday I bought some mullberries and piled them on ice cream and in smoothies and snacked away whenever I wandered by the bowl of that pretty purple fruit.  But by mid-week I was tired of eating them 'as-is' and worried that they wouldn't keep much longer.

The only downside to farmers market buying is that you are often at the mercy of the seller's portions.  Things like berries are too delicate to be massed into large boxes and then scooped out and weighed according to the purchaser's desired amount.

So, a girl on her own like me finds that a large basket of berries is sometimes too much to eat quickly, before they spoil.  Not one to let anything go to waste, I made a quick jam of these mullberries when I realized I wouldn't be able to keep them whole and fresh much longer.

Refrigerator jams are super-quick and easy (exactly how I like to cook!)  You simply place your fruit in a saucepan, add sugar, cook until you get a nice boil and the fruit thickens, then remove from heat, pour into jars and cool.  Use on toast or if your jam is a bit thin, you can use it syrup-style on pancakes. 

For the mullberries (which aren't a super sweet berry) I used 2 cups of berries and just under 1/2 cup of sugar.  It's very simple to put a teaspoon of your mixture on a plate, let it cool a bit and taste - then add more sugar if you need to.

Today, in lieu of the market, I spent the morning in the garden and then made some bread (in the magickal breadmaker) for Lughnanssadh.  I hope your First Harvest is abundant and blessed!

(picture linked to provider site)

Midsummer Blessings

"Up and down, up and down, I will lead them up and down..." Puck - A Midsummer Night's Dream

 

My neices and I went to the labyrinth today, for Midsummer's Eve stroll.  It was a hot & hazy day - perfect for the eve of Summer.

The plants in the area were blooming and the smell of wild roses was in the air.  I noticed that someone had hung Tibetan prayer flags nearby.

And also, on a peach tree, a different kind of prayer/wish flag.  We made similar prayer flags in coloured material for a friend to take to the Spirit Dance that she went to last year.  I've never seen white flags like this strung on a tree.  Peace flags perhaps?

We had a lovely afternoon wandering the area and we made our way to the lakeshore where I had my first dip...with my toes.  The lake is still quite cold because of the cool Spring we've had.

Tonight I've put out a plate of fruit & flowers in the garden for the fae folk.  There are also some clouds rolling in, so I've put out a bowl in case there is some Midsummer rain.  Speaking of moisture, don't forget to wash your face in the morning dew - it is said that Midsummer's morning dew will make you look younger.  I'm up for that!

Wishing you all a blessed Midsummer!

Beltane Blessings

Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen

I wish you a happy day

I'm come to show my garland

Because it's the first of May.

A bunch of May I have brought you

And at your door it stands

It is but a spray, but it's well spread about

Tis the work of the Fey's hands.

And now I've sung my little short song

No longer can I stay

Faeries bless you all, both great and small

And grant you a very happy May!

~old rhyme

Wishing you a wonderful May, a blessed Beltane and all the fairy favours you might wish!

Happy February!

While the world (or rather, North America - does anyone else have this odd lore?) waits with baited breath to see what the groundhog will fortell tomorrow at dawn in respect to our Winter weather - us pagan folk are celebrating the return of the light.

“In the northern hemisphere the time around February 1-2 is a potent time. On the Celtic wheel of the year it is Imbolc (meaning “in the belly” and also refers to the lactation of the ewes), which is one of the cross-quarter days falling between the Solstice and the Equinox. Imbolc marks the first day of spring in Ireland, the time when the very beginning of earth’s stirrings and awakenings from winter can be witnessed. As the days slowly lengthen and the sun makes her way higher in the sky, the ground beneath our feet begins to thaw. The earth’s belly softens and the seeds deep below slowly rumble in the darkness. New life is getting ready to sprout forth.” – Christine Valters Paintner, Patheos (via Jason at www.thewildhunt.com)

Regardless of what Punxsutawney Phil, that famous rodent prognosticator says, we will be breaking bread and toasting to the stirring of the earth.  While much of the earth - including you poor Easterners is still under a foot or more of snow - here in the West we are seeing small signs of life. 

Although I am hoping for an early Spring, my brother (a winemaker at a local vineyard/winery) tells me that my longing for warm days could be a curse for his industry.  The orchardists and viniculturists are watching the trees and grape vines to ensure we don't get too early a bud-opening, because we are prone to late frosts which could destroy crops. 

It's a real balancing-act that Nature is working through at this time of year.  I suppose I can deal with a few more cold days - if only to ensure a really good wine this Autumn!

I do wish you all a wonderful February and a blessed Imbolc.  Happy Candlemas, Groundhog Day and St. Bridget's Day to all those who celebrate on whatever day you celebrate on!  (For those who want to know astronomically which day Imbolc falls this year, check out http://www.archaeoastronomy.com/)

Also - if any of you get to Punxsutawney, PA, let me know how it was.  I've always wanted to go!

(Picture of "Phil" from http://www.groundhog.org/)

Watiting Patiently for Summer

I hope everyone had an enchanting Midsummer eve last night.  I wasn't able to sit outside due to the rain, but I had a nice little meditation by my altar at midnight.  No fairy spottings - but I imagine they are somewhere warmer and drier. 

I awoke at 5am to torrential rains, and almost stepped on a spider on the way to get a glass of water.  Instead, he got popped into the empty glass and tossed outside - poor bugger.  I just can't share my home (knowingly) with the crawly things - even on a rainy day. 

I have a hard time believing this is the day when we will have the most light, when the sky is so grey above me.  I may have to drag out my Vitamin D again.

I hope you are all having a wonderfully sunny Midsummer day!  Please send some sun my way!

A Blessed May

"But I must gather knots of flowers,

And buds and garlands gay,

For I'm to be the Queen o' the May, mother,

I'm to be the Queen o' the May."

~Alfred Lord Tennyson

Wishing you all a firey and passionate May Eve, and a lovely and bright Beltane. Don't forget to wash your faces in the morning dew, for that youthful glow!

I've got a long bath calling my name and a few other pleasures...and then it's off to bed for me, as I have my first farmers market tomorrow! Then I may have a bit of time to rest and read blogs and sink a bit into the weekend.

Have a lovely one!

Ostara Blessings

Although we saw the first promise of spring at Candlemas in the swelling buds, there were still nights of frost and darkness ahead. Now spring is manifest. Demeter is reunited with her daughter, Kore (the essence of spring), who has been in the Underworld for six months and the earth once again teems with life. The month of March contains holidays dedicated to all the great mother goddesses: Astarte, Isis, Aprhrodite, Cybele and the Virgin Mary.

The goddess shows herself in the blossoms, the leaves on the trees, the sprouting of the crops, the mating of birds, the birth of young animals. In the agricultural cycle, it is time for planting. We are assured that life will continue.

- Waverly Fitzgerald, Celebrating the Spring Equinox


I've had one lovely Spring surprise after another, these last few days. I saw new calves in the field outside of town. The lilac bushes in the yard have burst their buds, and are showing the beginnings of green leaves. And today, I wandered through my mom's garden, nibbling on new chives, and tasting sunshine and earth and glorious freshness.

I'm off to the garden centre tomorrow to buy some potting soil and some other goodies for Ostara and my new garden. We've been so fortunate with the sunshine this week, although the wind is still chilly. Winter doesn't quite completely release her hold just yet. But there is so much Spring to be seen and felt here in Southern British Columbia, it's hard to think that Winter has any more say in our weather now.

As for Ostara, I will be doing a quiet meditation tonight, and then a ritual outside first thing in the morning (hopefully without frost!)

I hope that however you celebrate, your Ostara is lovely and bright! Spring blessings to you!

Forcing Ideas

"Bare branches of each tree
on this chilly January morn
look so cold so forlorn.
Gray skies dip ever so low
left from yesterday's dusting of snow.
Yet in the heart of each tree
waiting for each who wait to see
new life as warm sun and breeze will blow,
like magic, unlock springs sap to flow,
buds, new leaves, then blooms will grow."
- Nelda Hartmann, January Morn

For those of us who are able to get our hands on fresh prunings, forcing branches can be very rewarding and bring beauty to your home long before the trees blossom in the Spring. For some forcing tips, check out Martha's ideas here.

With Imbolc coming up, I'm going to have to find another idea for a ritual. Last year I burned my Yule greens in a fire pit at a local Provincial park on a lake. It was cold and snowy, but I was warm by the fire, and it was so great to be able to observe this Sabbat outside.

Because I was moving, I didn't buy any greens this year for Yule (aside from a wreath which has made it's way to the flower garden to protect my perennials from frost.) So...on to planning a new ritual...

What do you do to mark this Sabbat?