MidSummer Solstice-time part 1

 Now mid-July approaches. 

We have wallowed in the extended days like languid limbs in the gentle breezes. 

Figuring it out, starting again, moving forward. Simply and slowly.

Singing prayers to this just full moon for our Druid friend in the hospital,

seeing his strength able to withstand the fight back to good health.

Wandering today not quite lost in the barely cloud covered landscape of distraction,

each of us speaking from the heart but not out loud.

MidSummer (from the other side)

Just now on this Interdependence Day burning the last of the sage offering unused at ritual and now clearing the whole house, each of the directions, circling each of the rooms, 

the central staircase from attic to basement, each of the doorways, the perimeter of the house, the walkway, the circle, the self and back to the hearth.

MidSummer is this streaming heat

 and sweat and tears and energy and events and schedules and friends and family.

Unlike Equinox, there is little balance, just extended time, dream or a-wakened.

The quiet moments are filled with birdsong. 

The busy moments are filled with everything else.

The garden is now a riot of color. 

Each day new flowers bloom. It is glorious. 

And busy. 

We ran headlong into MidSummer,

from end of school, to our anniversaries, to high season of work.

Even with days off, the catastrophes of computers

delayed or held hostage actual set up,

vacuuming in the heat, racing to the store, giving up with pizza.

It's summer.

Many folks who haven't been here might have shown up,

but just her, our regional Druid, charming and shining like the sun, made it.

And all the long time grove family,

though we did not hear from one, he-who-is-always-here-at-the-solstices and who was missed, though remembered with love.

And just at the start of our procession, they showed up too. 

I knew they would.
Teenager, Bryan, me and 3 other grove women, her and them.

Its always good to go into the woods,

silently over the moss, and past memories grown up.

Lots of flowers, petals, oils, food, beer, sage, garlic,
old magic newspapers, stuff in pockets

Whole prayers out loud, quiet and silent.

Now it a month past MidSummer, 

I can see the imperceptible loss of daylight.
Drought and raging thunderstorms define this high summertime.
There are no pictures of all our sacrifice, nor can I remember much.
Trying to really be here and present, to pray whole and holy grounded on the earth.
Prayers for peace and gentleness always.
Gratitude for love, the simple joys of love.

 

Our Omens:

from our Ancestors: Elhaz or Protection, the Elk Sedge. Drawing on natural powers or allowing previously suppressed powers to surface, luck in the hunt, success through strong and rewarded effort
from the Spirits of Nature and Place: Eihwaz or the Ewe Tree or Death's Hook or also identified with Yggdrasil (the World Tree). The Axis symbol of eternal life, links between the worlds, the space and the force that links opposites and the energy between them
from the Gods & Goddesses: Kenaz or the Torch. The ability to shape and craft and to light the way.
For the Season: Gibor/Gebo or Giving.
Let's shine our light of loving energy as our protective power of giving.

Magic is in the here and now, in each petal, in the bird calls and the clouds, in the shining eyes and kind hearts of each of us, in the faint trickle or loud rush of the stream. How we come together, making meals from nothing or from all the same food, or from what we forgot to get or to offer or to share;
how time passes both quickly and incrementally, kids growing large but just the same in spirit, memories overlapping dreams overlapping the present;
how we live and love each day is all there is.

Suddenly Summer

finally written, coded and uploaded and coded again.
It's still the Magical Month of May but barely.
regular work gone irregular and twice as much.
The glitch of computers make this an old-style almost manual posting
without as much creative options which make this a loving art form for me.
We are always limited by our mediums, by our programs, by the center or left or right setting.
And it is good to be in the summertime,
when there is so much abundance and so much to do
even with the constraints of our humanity.

It is now Memorial Day weekend, early but still.
3 weeks exactly since our Beltaine Ritual.

It is completely summer.
Catskill Mountain summer, of potential frosts and layers of clothes for warmth in the shade.

But it is very dry.
Even with the blessing of a few nights of rain,
the ground is thirsty.

We take this long weekend to rest,
to walk the land a bit and garden a bit
but mainly to be languid.
We have earned this time off, this time of not doing,
even though there are still chores we finish slowly
in between naps.

Once again we prepared for many
and less, but enough, showed up. 3 of us and three others, having lost lists and reconfigured connections
those who were here were.

Back then there was no canopy of dark leaves,
it was the blooming of the rest of the daffodils
and the magnolia
and before the columbine, irises and other purple flowers
in the garden now.

the cycling of flowers in their time fascinates me,
impossible to keep up with but only to fully immerse in,
I blink each week at the newness
as the garden changes colors.

The Maypole is still up until the end of the month,
grateful that this year we had the strength to erect it ourselves.

simple simple

we gather, eat fruit & spicy chocolate, drink water
and talk and talk as always.
With petals and flowers and pieces of ribbon in my pockets for sacrifice.
we process to to the gentle drumbeat and the bird calls
past the 5-circle fire pit across the brook
and through the just budding woods and fiddleheads
to the nemeton
and find our places on the earth.

  

 

(photos by boy)
                                                              offering sacrifice

 final sacrifice

       

 
(photos by me)  
             

there aren’t too many words to say,
the fire was doing all the talking

                            pulling omens, giving thanks

 Just enough to dance
around the Maypole, always
much silly laughter

   

Our omens
From our Honored Dead:Mannaz – Man or Self
From the Spirits of Nature & Place: Laguz –the lake,
drawing up, drawing from
From the Gods & Goddesses:Elwaz-Attention, prayer
For the Season:Berkanu-NEW BEGINNINGS!

(photos by him)

now at 9pm it is not totally dark,
the moon grows larger and the night still lessens,
fruit grows on the trees and I keep my fingers crossed.