Vernal Equinox, Snowy Spring-Times change quickly

We had been seeing the melt, rejoicing at the land, walking into the woods and gathering much needed sticks, wearing less clothes, almost as if it was.

The spring is a prolonged heart racing moment of sudden and imperceptible complete change.

It is this time still cold and with the wood stove burning, but eating dinner late because it is light after 7.

Snow and ice still hard, but the stream begins to rush loud and the birds sing.

Spring.

And though we knew it to be passing, the grey clouds and snowfall prompted us all to go into blizzard mode that day and hunker down. Snowquinox.

One by one many folks cancelled or we told them to stay down the mountain and be safe, and just us, who live here, gathered.

Restless teenager, balancing adults.
we juggled early snow-related school dismissal bus pickup
9 miles away, delivery of oversized new mattress and removal of our 17yr-old-one on which the restless teenager was made and had slept in the middle so long ago,
working and rescheduling work,
cleaning for guests who would not arrive,
making food and gathering sticks.
I needed a nap.

And even with no other humans around we still sometimes seem rushed, forgetting things, casting about for what we can’t find or putting our attitudes at peace.
Peaceful like the falling snow, like knowing we have no where we have to go, like we are here now.

2 weeks later we are in a whole nother world.
I sat in the sun today and there are only small patches of snow left. I could work in the garden. Crocuses bloom and others will soon. It is still cool at night but the days are bright and Spring has sprung.
2 more weeks later and it is Spring. Daffodils bloom and trees bud. We want to be outside more than inside. Suddenly we are late to start seeds as we rake the garden and prune the roses.
Down the mountain it is almost too hot. Grateful for the slightly slower pace we get up here. But the sun feels strong and we try not to portent a very dry and hot summer.
I am still blinking at light and flowers.
As if to say what? Who are you?
Yet I look at these photos of snow and can’t even remember. Like looking at pictures of the restless teenager as a baby.
Time rolls on.
 
The following are loads of photos from ritual, from set up to ending, from first snow to dark. 
       

We knew it would snow, so Bryan had covered over the cleared out fire pit with the large bowl we use as a well, the circle of ice from its center became like a clock of melting time over the weeks.         
     


      
Though we had plenty of dry wood, reeds and sacrifice,
the fires were brief and intermittent,
not going out but hard to get going.

wood gifted from the willow tree, shed from winter, gathered before snowfall our sweetgrass      

breaking a stick at exactly the time, our new tradition   bundled up combining breath to ignite the flame            Sometimes we look at the pictures of the fire and there are really scary faces or really distinct profiles in the flame
or sometime clear figures dancing
or hands or creatures in flight.
They are full of so much imagery to be scryed that I have to include them all.     Our Omens
from the ancestors: fehu or fee
from the spirits of nature & place: perth- luck or chance
from the gods & goddesses: daguz or day
for the season:nathuz or need

        
behold, the waters of life.
fire so elusive even the reeds need the rush of air to burn   

snow dampens the fire again  

Glowing ember of ritual fire.
Sacrifice not entirely consumed
but received nonetheless.
Gates closed, gratitude shared, teenager back inside.
I add the snowy pieces of pine boughs from Yule to the fire,
and then the whole frozen boughs themselves
and suddenly the fire rages.
Sparks fly into the bluing evening like quiet fireworks.
Standing together in the no longer cold nor darkness.