Beltaine Musings- Written Over Time

Summer is a-coming and Winter's gone away-o.

But not until after a few more snowstorms and a freeze withered parts of almost every tree.

Rain comes now.

It is most welcome

and accompanied by cool breezes 

and grey silence. 

Springtime was blissfully eternal, especially delayed up on the mountain.

Fist came daffodils and fruit tree blossoms and the magnolia, 

then tulips brought inside before the frost,

now the purple flowers bloom-lilac and iris.

And so we will cycle through the flower color spectrum as the season unfolds;

soon will be scarlets and reds and pinks, and then end of season yellows and oranges.

Gardening is the antidote to fear and sorrow.

Early this May we saw a Crow dive and catch a Snake,

carrying it off for a meal.

These days we encounter many snakes- sunning on rocks, folded in the corners of the garden, 

and, on the day of this writing, in the kitchen.

Caught and released and as I tried to remember the earlier Snake Omen,
I saw a large Crow outside the window,

slowly hopping from branch to branch,
stalking,

reminding me

as it caught a Snake,

possibly the one I saw but did not disturb earlier.

 

 The trees have mostly fully leafed,
almost overnight and certainly within the last week or so 

(though time has become completely fluid).

There is shade and canopy and shielding.

It is incredible to note the years' passing 

in the immensity of trees planted seemingly not so long ago.

 

And so it goes, 

and it goes on. 

Whether we intend it to or not, whether as planned or not, whether wanted or not.

  I thought maybe I had written some notes after ritual but can't find them and maybe I didn't.

 I remember that it was real good and right on.
Just absorbing it without detailing it. 

Sometimes that is how it is.

You have to be here.

We set up our Maypole on May Eve,
knowing we might not be able to dance it together.
Allowing the wind and the birds to move the ribbons instead.

Days of gifts from the Earth, the Community or the Internet arrived.
No need to prep food or clean house for ritual.
Strangely relaxed in our new ways.

As is our oft-attempted tradition, 

Bryan tried to ignite fire from the sun. 

Smoke looks like flame in the direct light.

 

 There were just the few of us, our small family and our immediate Grove Family.

A few folks unable to attend and everyone properly distanced. 

Weird and hard not to hug each other.

Last holiday was misty and full of questions and that precipice of balance.

Only the OG grove members participated, with our son choosing to pass.

(Bryan says that the freedom to choose is what the whole Paganism thing is about.)

This holiday was bright and clear and welcoming. 

And having lived so far through this unknown time,

it felt easier for more of us to gather, to share stories if not hugs,

to eat together apart

with our own libations. 

Getting together as our Grove,

the intertwining of our meetings and connectings,

like the ribbons on the Maypole,

help us stay whole and holy.

our well

 

our fire and sacrifice

 our fires are always deeply expressive,
the detail of their spirits and the depth of their language

to be studied and understood over time.

 

 

copious sacrifice completely consumed

Bryan said that what was coming out during ritual

was the idea of primordial strength, 

like the audacity of the garlic mustard.

There is this strength and power
within us too,

that is in the process of becoming.

This is about the unwritten story
within each of us,

like the Maypole dance,

this is attached to this and that to that,

and we may not have seen it before.

Where it is leading to
we don't know.

We don't have our hands on these ribbons.

We don't know how it ends up.

But something is going to happen
which is why we don't go into despair.

Feel the Earth,
let it go. 

the seeking of omens

hear and answer us we pray

our wooden runes in a metal basket held in the fire

our omens

from Our Honored Dead-Isa is Ice, in this case clearly the opposite of fire and heat and expansive and its all about being cool and solid, it's our ancestors saying to chill out.

from the Spirits of Nature and Place- Tir or Tirwaz is the Spiritual Warrior, tends to be about balance and direction and truth, it's the Pole Star from up above, it is an obvious directional rune
and truth is related to trust.

from the Gods and Goddesses- Gibor is what it is to give and the gift and giving

for the Season- Odul or Othala is the Sacred Enclosure, it's all of that stuff that is protected,
that which we keep safe.

ITGO!

mini-megaphone amplification

moon

Hallow these waters.
Give us comfort, knowledge and blessing.

Bryan and ritual were powerful and true.

We were here together apart.

Suddenly our first hummingbird appeared
going to an amaryllis gifted by our Grovemate years ago that had just bloomed for the third time.

Distance sometimes feels like sadness.

And yet somehow we still go on.

A lesson involved in the process is that it isn't all exactly about me. 

There are so many things already forgotten
and yet the persistence of memory

is experienced by all.

Bryan's recollections started and ended with the peeing.

Not to allow guests to relieve themselves 

except in our woods with no leaf cover

and not to share food,

even though stated beforehand,

was an odd alteration of our hosting, 

especially at this time

when our revelry should be full with bountiful beverages and feasting.

Significant to him as he had "gotten to work on his 3rd beer" by the time ritual had begun, 

something not unusual in time's past

but rare nowadays.

And this time of pandemic crisis as opposed to the pandemonium of joyful bacchanal

reminds us that maybe it is not all about us.

Bryan says that as Samhain is definitely about our Honored Dead,

this holiday, on the other side of the year,

is about the Spirits of Nature and Place,

the fairies and the not-gods. 

In these weeks of the May,
we have gone from hints of Summer- delectable first sightings of flowers and birds

to full-on Summer with deep greens and many bees.

The passage of time. 

People as Nature Spirits, the real life thing, 

down to earth and genuine.

We still do not know.

Maybe we know less. 

This beautiful now.

Tomorrow we will take down the Maypole.
These last few days have seen unrest in this country,
though bucolic summer in our part of the country.

 

Prayers for Peace and the Power of Love.
There is already a second generation of hummingbirds,
life somehow goes on.
It is up to us to participate

speaking our truth like the birdsong.