The Season of the May

first peach blossoms

Now is the last week of May.
This month all the flowers and trees came back, reminding us of the renewal of life.
That it does come back, that winter ends and summer returns with lush greenery,
is an incredible miracle not taken for granted.

young man carries away the Maypole for another year

Now it is June. There have been warm days, but still many cool grey ones.
Birds sing all the time and it is dark until past nighttime.

danced Maypole

But then it was just beginning.
A bud or flower here, a bit of color there, a single bird song.
Each new discovery magical delight. 
Grateful to be here.
Still blinking at the light and slow to start.

Notes written on the back of an envelope maybe the day after ritual
to try and remember: 

Bear season

Cleaning but trying not to stress.
Maypole broken but trying not to stress. 
Flowers blooming by the hour.
Storm from the night before gone.
Cooler air.

Walking barefoot on moss.
Walking with handfuls of colored ribbons.
Tying knots with intention, 
repairing the Maypole strings.
Weekend coffee.
It's been very hot.

Getting ready to crack eggs
she arrives and we are whole.

Talking about the past, what was and wasn't,
old hurts and illness.
Clearing the air of sadness.

She arrives with more eggs.
We eat pie.
They arrive and we all just eat. 

He wakes up and goes back to bed.

Sometimes it's not all figured out.
Sometimes it's just now.

Where to have ritual and when?
The Nemeton is nice and we haven't been there in a while,
but it is full sun and we are simple.
Let's process there and back and see what we see
alive and growing.
Asparagus! Strawberry flowers! Fiddleheads! Mud!

It's great to be alive.

First offering not to forget & to honor the Earth Mother-
old colostrum from beautiful cows and frozen in a blue jar.
Egg shells and odd eggs for the Directions-
the newness of the East, the love and care and compassion of the South, the setting sun and thoughtfulness and the Bear of the West, the winter and cold and healing of the North, & the up and down and center.

A deep meditation
being connected very strongly to the Earth
and to the self.

Pennies on the land kerplunk into the Well.
More colostrum for the Tree.
Garlic stalk and bacon fat for the Fire.

A good fire.
A strong hot bright orange fire. 
Wind-whipped but not dangerous or smokey.
Never out of control,
the heat of the flames made us slow down
with honored respect for power.

Lamb chops for the Outsiders-
feast across the road please
and trouble us not.

Old rosemary and her peat for Bridget.
Flowers for everyone.

Her hydrangeas from last season
and a whirlwind of ash
spiraling around us.

Her reading Shel Silverstein-
Put in Something Funny.
Her putting in sugar candies for everything.

Her crone walk-
the rocks are crones.
And the Earth.
Babies and Maidens and Mothers and Crones.
All valued. 

Rose petals from the healing bouquets.
Sharing heart and connection.
Smoke through the hollow reeds,
gentle and strong at the same time.

Bacon sacrifice,
bringing it home & cooking it up.
Fat and protein.
Blooming time,
even though we are not 16.
We are still now.

 

A powerful peaceful ritual.
So much gratitude and never enough.
Learning about letting go.
And speaking up.
Learning about being here now.



Our Omens:

From Our Beloved Dead: Berkanu- Birch, Beginnings, Birth
From the Spirits of Nature & Place: Daguz- Day, Midday, a Clear View
From the Gods & Godesses:Isa-Ice, Cool, Slippery, Transparent, Solid
For the Season of the May: Gibor- the Giver! the Sacrifice, the Gift.

Cold Light of Imbolc

This light rushes toward equal time with a blinding yet calming strength.

Bridget as muse and guidance supports us with love and wisdom.

It's been a frozen then oddly warm then bitterly cold season.

A real Winter is good and the longer until late Spring weather the better.

 This holiday is always special and joyful .
Birds sing, the stream flows through ice and the sun rises higher.
We indulge in gratitude for this life and its renewal.
Gathering in the warmth of the kitchen,
we open champagne and toast each other, Our Whole Grove and our blessed Grove Goddess, Bridget

2 Bridgets in the center as the table fills with food

a yummy and mostly gluten free brunch for Bridget!

 

us 4 adults go outside to begin,
teenager stays inside working on a paper for school,

inspiration calls in many ways.

Sharing ritual tasks is powerful.

Planning ahead spontaneous honoring as a dance of us with spirit.

Our dear long-time grove mate invokes the directions,

 I sit by the center and listen.

Our Whole (proto)Grove.

A good and easy fire burning in the snow.

 Right at the end of the meditation, they appear, all in black and smiling broadly.

"I felt like I was laying flat on the earth."

Young adults grown so much since back then,

she has a small heart drawn under her eye.

  Heartfelt sacrifice for our dear dear Bridget.

burning away Yuletide greens

 

 bacon and salami and smoked trout,
rose petals and tea and spirits and sweet grass and garlic,
last year's calendar and more

 it felt lighthearted and we welcomed an optimism

our Omens:

from the Ancestors: Fehu or fee or Cattle- our mobile wealth and property, whether debt or cost or inheritance.
I reach in my pocket and there is an old worn Bridget's cloth from Imbolc years ago .

from the Spirits of Nature & Place: Ingwaz- the seed growing, expanding, connecting.
Ing- like a verb, like doing or being, like Yngvi, like "Harmony & Unity"

from the Gods & Goddesses: Berkanu or birth, birch, beginnings.

Blessed Bridget, with your midwifery and healing skills, with your keening cry for our dead,
with your kindness and vision and inspiration and craft, lead us forward. 

for the Season: Algiz- posture of attention and caution and alertness and listening and being on guard. Stay alert, the world needs more lerts.

He took a homework break and came down for the waters, 

shuffling on the snow with old friends,
doing the magick work
of passing thru Bridget's girdle thrice.

Bringing Bridget to our Hearth

More food. So much food. Enough food.

 transdimensional resting 

bright fire and directed arrows in flight

flames higher than the wild lettuce

Now 2 weeks since ritual and the overwhelming nature of summer has infused our spirits.

Even as the days grow slowly shorter
and the nights blissfully cooler,
we are more involved and lost in work and languid with afternoon naps and also so very busy in a slow motion way.
before the autumn arrives.

This season as non-stop as solstice,
as precipice-like as Imbolc,
full of evolutionary change at microscopic levels.
Notes from just after Lughnasad ritual:
sparks of learning and expanding knowledge
    the apple tree down towards the east
after the unity riders,
days of activity, meals with friends,
many people gathering at different times. 
a different kind of prep, ongoing hosting,
cleaning and cooking
for a variety of worldly and otherworldly guests.
  the assembly of the skeletal form of fire to be
  

waiting for family, meeting new family,
dealing with family, looking at the sky
Hudson River School clouds overhead

When the intent fails,
that is to be acknowledged too.
Even with embers from the harvested fire,
only the new fire was able to ignite.
Struggling with the spirit,
children and camera lenses,
new and old,
growing up and finding space,
harbinger of autumn,
bright light Lugh.
           

3 gongs to start,
sage smoke and water aspersions and find space among the knot work of the land.

what’s for the Earth Mother?
ah beer, mother’s milk . ok.


the directions from standing still, the clouds and the trees and the wind.
 
our well, our tree,
our fire to be
what would not light but only smolder from the maintained flame.
  
Cameras whirr and energy drifts,
remembering other fires and patience.
A log from the other fire,
also embered from the Beltane fire
but really lit from paper,
was brought into this one  
and then its brilliance riveted focus.
 

Liqueur for Mananan and oils for Bridget,
neither of which flamed as expected but created a more intensely bright part of the fire.

Good to always have a variety of sacrifice. White sage and our kitchen herbs and corn for the gods. Our last cherries for Lugh.
It always feels fast paced or like a dream.
And suddenly it is time.
                  

feel the air around us and passing through us
children offering intent and silent, or adult children exuberant.
the moss under feet,
spirals of grasses,
no flare ups just more intent fire,
the strange bird cackles, the women offering,
all the cauldron as small beings of flame,
the bacon sacrifice
   
 
Our omens
of joy and luck and shaping and disruption.
Look for the opportunity, the new seed.
         

from the Ancestors:Kenaz, the torch- our ability to illuminate and shape
from the Spirits of Nature & Place:Wunjo, Joy- particularly the joy of the company of friends
from the Gods & Goddesses:Perth, Chance, the Lottery Cup-chance and luck
from Lugh and for the season:Hagal, Hail- disruption of the old order with seed of the new.
waters in our own glasses each pouring for themselves and the children.

thanks with enough for all.

wistful wholeness.
chill in the air August.
acceptance.