You are currently browsing the monthly archive for April 2007.
Beltane is one of the two great Celtic Pagan festivals (the other is the Celtic New Year festival of Samhain, or Halloween). It begins the evening of the last day of April and continues through the night till the dawning of May Day. The Great Goddess and her young consort have consummated their union. Fertility and new life are celebrated with bonfires, maypole dancing, bouquets of flowers and offerings of eggs, milk and honey.
We’ll celebrate Beltane with a bonfire, if the weather permits, like the one above. We’ll plant seeds, transplant our seedlings, and cut flowers to decorate our house with. We’ll eat poke, a wild plant that grows abundantly here, and strawberries I bought at the farm market, and asparagus from our garden and the farm market. We’ll give thanks for the return of the sun and the warmth and for new life.
Here’s a link to more information on Beltane:
http://www.thepaganweb.com/beltane.html
Posted by Mari with Beltane Blessings
Red Hallowed
Autumn,
Leaves turn,
combust into new energy,
letting go of the old,
delighting the senses,
reminding of evolution,
freeing,
transforming souls.
(copyright Imogen Crest 2007.)
It’s been a tough Spring. Reluctant. Secretive. I tried to escape the East Coast and went to Sedona, Arizona, only to discover that it sleets there. In April. But slow as it is, Spring is being dragged into my yard by the bulbs I planted last fall. The grape hyacinths popped up purple and are now dropping seeds. The magic narcissus unfolded, one green blade at a time, and greeted me when I came home with a ring of white around the crepe myrtle, which is setting leaves. The lilies are coming up like bush green gnomes. In summer, they will burst with color and scent.
The lavender I planted too early is tough and is sitting in three little separate mounds, waiting for next year to grow bigger. (According to garden lore, the first year it sleeps, the second it creeps, the third it leaps.)
The mint is up and fighting for space, a sure sign that Spring won’t be held back.
The backyard pear tree is showing tiny green pears, the size of a pencil eraser, except on the edges of the branches, where a late, hard freeze froze off the blossoms.
Nature is a school for me. The lessons are not always soft and gentle, but they are always worth learning. I love being outside this time of year. Nothing is boring. It is all so alive.
Right now, life feels like a prayer. Everywhere I look, I feel grateful for surviving the winter. And in my tradition, there is a blessing for that: Blessed are you, creator of the Universe, for having kept us alive, for sustaining us, and for having us arrive again at this season in the cycle of the year.
It is Samhain here in Australia. I have been thinking of Darryl constantly over the past forty eight hours in the hope that I might get a sign, some small reassurance that he has found the light and is flying free. Now you have to understand that although ravens are often nearby they rarely come in to my yard. So when I heard the call, knew it was close by, I looked up through my kitchen window and saw the most beautiful Raven perched, in the rain, on my Silver Birch. I rushed for my camera and caught the moment.
Suddenly a feeling of calm spread throughout me. My beloved has let me know he is free and safe.
When I was young, on Good Fridays my family would go riding in the country. A California spring can be glorious! After the winter rains, the golden hills turn green and are sprinkled with orange poppies and all manner of wildflowers. We would pack an ice-chest with a picnic lunch and head up or down the coast or into the mountains. Some years, when Holy Week came early, it would still be wintery. Once we had our picnic in the back of my dad’s camper because the snow had not melted yet in the mountains. Another year we had lunch at an old Mission because it was pouring rain outside.
Our family has gone with the four winds but I still try to preserve that custom even though I now observe a more traditional Good Friday. I still feel nature calling on that day and I try to do some sort of outdoor activity. This past Good Friday a few weeks ago, I went to Madrona Marsh preserve, not far from where I live. This is a 20 acre vernal marsh surrounded on all sides by urban sprawl. The goal of the preservists is to replant the area with indigenous plants and to remove any non-native plants and animals.
This year we are in a severe drought. Because Madrona is a vernal marsh, it relies on the winter and spring rains to keep it wet. Normally, we have about 15 inches of rain during the winter. To date, we’ve had less than 3 inches. The marsh is so dry. I almost wept when I walked through the dried and drooping tule rushes. I started mourning in a way that seemed so appropriate for the Good Friday holiday. It all seemed so hopeless.
I wandered over to the Nature Center at the edge of the marsh. I began talking to the docent about the condition of the marsh. Then she said something surprising. “Yes, we are in a severe drought, but the tree-frogs don’t seem to notice. There are coming out each day and calling for their mates.”
I pondered this. Even in the most hopeless situation, life goes on. The tree frogs were singing. This affirmation of life in the midst of such aridness was stunning. How so very appropriate for Holy Week!
Text and Image: Lori Gloyd (c) 2007
From where I stood to take this photo of the rushes, I should be waist deep in water if we were not in a drought!
As autumn wraps her cloak around Melbourne and Carnforth’s garden
Samhain approaches
and I stop to reflect and meditate
Samhain, better known as Halloween, the Celtic Festival of the Dead is celebrated at the end of October in the northern hemisphere. In the southern hemisphere we honour the Spirit of Place by celebrating this festival the end of April when we are at the mid point between the Autumn Equinox and the Winter Solstice.
Samhain is the eighth and final sabbat in the Great Wheel of the Year and marks the time when the veil between the worlds is at its thinnest. It is a time of endings, releasing and letting go in preparation for the new life and new potentials that await birthing with the Sun at the Solstice. It is also the time to honour the dead and that which has died in our life. Samhain calls us to release the dead wood of the last cycle so we do not carry it into the new cycle that will begin in several weeks when the Sun is reborn from the darkness at the Winter Solstice on June 21.
A Samhaine Supper
Traditionally a midnight supper was held at Samhain to honour the dead. A place was set at the table for the souls of the dead and lights were left burning in the windows to guide the souls of those who had died in the last year in their journey to the Otherworld, found in the Aurora Borealis, home of the Great Goddess Arianrhod. The veil between the worlds was envisaged by the Celts as a turning silver wheel and Arianrhod was the keeper of this wheel. It was said she wove the fates of humanity as she wove her magical threads. At Samhain the veil opens and Arianrhod calls home the spirits of those who have died in the last year so they can await rebirth when the time is opportune.
You may conduct your own special supper with a place set for loved ones who are no longer with you. At some point in the meal everyone present will speak the names of loved ones who have died and share any memories that come to mind. Or you may choose to have a few minutes silence to each remember those who have moved beyond the veil into the realm of Arianrhod. Light a candle for each loved one that has passed away. If you are comfortable you could
- Encourage recently departed loved ones to move forward into the light and release the ties that may keep them earth bound.
- Open to memories and messages that may come through from beyond the veil. Samhain is a time for medium-ship and you may find a loved one communicates with you via your intuition or your dreams around this time.
from Astrology Newsletter by Christine Rothwell
The seasons are changing. In the northern hemispheres, we are mercifully emerging from an abnormally severe winter; in the southern regions, we are breathing a sigh of relief as scorching heat gives way to autumn. How do you respond, if at all, to the changing of the season? How is your response manifested? For some the response is spiritual, religious, or cultural through the celebration of Beltane, Easter, Passover or Earth Day. For some it is practical–raking autumn leaves or planting flower gardens. For some it is creative– capturing the movements of nature in photographs or haiku.
Share with us how the seasons are changing for you by commenting below or posting to BS 27.04.07 Seasons.
I have thought long and hard about the subject of gifts. I have been given many, many precious gifts over the years, both material and spiritual or emotional, and it has not been easy to single out one to write about. However, one early gift set me on a road I am still going down.
The summer after second grade, my mother ordered a surprise for me. It came in a large box, which I found was full of large books- seven of them to be exact. They were seven of L. Frank Baum’s Oz books, hardbound. The selection was a bit random- the first, second, and fourth, but not the third, etc. I was certainly intrigued, and paged through them, but they were a little bit daunting for a little girl who had only just finished second grade.
My mother proceeded to cuddle with me on the couch and read the first chapter or two of the book. That was all. Then she left me with the book. Naturally, I wanted more. She wouldn’t read any more. So I picked up the book and started to read it for myself. I worked my way through all seven of those books over the next few months (I was still reading them when school started.) When I finished one, I would beg her to get me started on the next. I learned to read chapter books and was completely captivated by reading- and still am. We even went to the library to try to find some of the books we had not been sent. (I have collected the rest of them since.) I read those Oz books over and over again through the years, along with almost anything else I could get my hands on. Interestingly, I didn’t read much fantasy, except for my beloved fairy tales, until I was in college although then it became my favorite genre.
My mother’s gift of those books and the restraint she showed in not just reading them to me, but enticing me into reading them for myself, gave me a lifetime passion for reading and later for writing. I consider that a truly fantastic gift.
My parents gave me two very special gifts. One was the love of all things related to words, foreign languages and reading, this last much aided by a fertile imagination. By the age of 7 when I transferred into junior school I had already read all the set books we were due to read in the coming year and I was bored stiff in the reading lessons. We didn’t have a TV in our house until I was 11 and my grandparents came to live with us, bringing with them their black and white TV. Up until then our entertainment came from listening to the radio and I can well remember being ill one day, lying on the sofa in the living room, listening to a radio production of The Hobbit. It was the episode where the hobbits go through Mirkwood and, in my fevered imagination, I could see faces in the uneven surface of the plaster in the ceiling. It was terrifying….
The other was a love of natural history. Given the opportunity I would most certainly have had one of those cabinets of miracles as I was always a magpie of a collector and hoarder. I learned the names of all the wildflowers to be found in the woods and hedgerows. My mother had a book of black and white illustrations of wildflowers which she had started to paint, including annotations of when and where she had found them. I carried on this interest and later insisted on having my own copy of the book. At weekends our family would go on geological forays to disused coal tips where we would find fossil ferns or to the
Dorset coast where we would find ammonites, fossil flowers, sharks teeth and devils toenails on the beach at Lyme Regis. I collected shells, abandoned birds eggs, etc. etc and could identify all the birds that came to our garden. At the end of our garden I had my own flowerbed and learned the names of all the garden plants. I spent hours in the greenhouse with my grandfather where he regaled me with tales of his childhood.
Nowadays, I am still a collector, but only of the photographs I take of all things fauna and flora. Perhaps I should add that I collect books as well. But you probably already guessed that …
The Little Joys in Life
Of the many photos.. I’ve taken the last couple of weeks this has to be my personal favourite. I was in the car, the back seat between my grandson and his playmate. Wedged between baby seats, but what a place to photograph little kids. The sun playing thought the windows started Monty on a sneeze and I just managed to grab him in the middle of it.
On a more whimsical note this photos of my Gargoyle “Ernest” bathing and having altogether too much fun.
To dance
Wildly, with fierce
Abandonment, letting
Hidden longings escape through my
Moving limbs.
———————————————
The above poem is written in the form of a cinquain, sometimes referred to as American Haiku. Cinquains use a fixed syllable format set in 5 lines as follows:
Line 1: 2 syllables
Line 2: 4 syllables
Line 3: 6 syllables
Line 4: 8 syllables
Line 5: 2-3 syllables.
The spirit of altruism and generosity is wired into the human psyche. I recently saw a number of people on the metro-rail reaching into their pockets for coins to give a homeless man on the train, even though it was fairly obvious that the train passengers themselves had very little to give. Millions of people all over the world give of their time, energies, talents, and monies just because they feel compelled to do so.
This week’s Bluestocking topic is about gift-giving and gift-receiving. Discuss a special gift you once gave to someone, or would like to give to someone in the future. Conversely, what special gift have you received in your life that has meant a lot to you? Or what gift would you like someone give to you? What acts of altruism have you witnessed in your life?
Comment below or post to BS 20.04.07 Gifts.
I set out to draw but ended up finding the background was the picture.
Sibyl Riversleigh has great respect for the suffragettes and the rights that they won. But she does want to remind everyone of that wonderful Cyndi Lauper song – ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’. Follow the bouncing ball and sing along.
I come home in the morning light,
My mother says “When you gonna live your life right?”
Oh,mother,dear,
We’re not the fortunate ones,
And girls,
They wanna have fu-un.
Oh,girls,
Just wanna have fun.
The phone rings in the middle of the night,
My father yells “What you gonna do with your life?”
Oh,daddy,dear,
You know you’re still number one,
But girls,
They wanna have fu-un,
Oh,girls,just wanna have
That’s all they really want…..
Some fun….
When the working day is done,
Oh,girls,
They wanna have fu-un,
Oh,girls,
Just wanna have fun….
Girls,
They want,
Wanna have fun.
Girls,
Wanna have
Some boys take a beautiful girl,
And hide her away from the rest of the world.
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun.
Oh,girls,
They wanna have fu-un.
Oh,girls,
Just wanna have
That’s all they really want…..
Some fun….
When the working day is done,
Oh,girls,
They wanna have fu-un.
Oh,girls,
Just wanna have fun…
Girls,
They want,
Wanna have fun.
Girls,
Wanna have.
They just wanna,
They just wanna…..
They just wanna,
(Oh….)
They just wanna…..
(Girls just wanna have fun…)
Oh…
Girls just wanna have fu-un…
They just wanna,
They just wanna….
They just wanna,
They just wanna….
(Oh…)
They just wanna…
(They just wanna have fun…)
Girls just wanna have fu-un…
When the workin’,
When the working day is done.
Oh,when the working day is done,
Oh,girls…
Girls,
Just wanna have fu-un…
They just wanna,
They just wanna….
They just wanna,
They just wanna have fun…
Girls just wanna have fu-un..
They just wanna,
They just wanna….
They just wanna,
They just wanna….
(Have fun..)
They just wanna,
(Girls wanna have fun)
They just wanna….
Oh,girls…
(Wanna have fun….)
Girls just wanna have fu-un.
When the workin’,
When the working day is done.
Oh,when the working day is done,
Oh,girls,
Girls just wanna have fu-un.
They just wanna,
They just wanna….
(Oh,girls…)
They just wanna,
(Have fun….)
Oh,girls..
Girls just wanna have fu-un
They just wanna,
They just wanna…
When the working day is done…
(fades)
Recent Comments