In my dream, the Summer Queen is wrapped in summer’s fire, garbed in gowns of gold and brown, and blazing with desire, the grass and grains are winding down, leaning in ebbing spires. She feels the heat beneath her feet, her stride is wide, her lips are sweet, her arms lift up to lightning streaks. She twirls around on thirsty ground raising the passions higher. With hips and hopes expanding wide her heart alight with joy and pride her song is strong, her howls are long, her many prayers are hot and bold and then her plans find ease at last remembering the wheel spins fast it’s nearly time to share the floor, as Autumn’s Queen peeks round the door.
In August, I feel held in a space between summer’s fire and summer’s fatigue. There has been a blooming and a ripening, and now a harvesting and a fading begin as the time comes to turn the page.
The cool touch of dew across cheeks and brow, a single pink dianthus emerging between stones, sunlight kisses through leafy canopies, a circle of flower petals, a gentle hoop of wild raspberry cane making a celebration arch under which to sit on a broad flat stone, gooseberry bushes by my knees and the sound of wild turkeys rising from the valley, as the sun lifts steadily into the sky. It is this small magic of living I crave and delight in, the silent ceremonies of surprise and skin that arise before my eyes and sink into my bones, the very day itself the ritual handbook of a wild witch alone.
I touch the earth and offer gratitude for this land I call home. I reach towards the sky and offer gratitude for sun, moon, and stars. I place my hand on my heart and breathe deep, offering gratitude for all that I am and all that I have and for the many blessings of my life…
As we reach the celebration of First Fruits, Lammas, on August 1 (or August 7), it is a beautiful time to reflect on the abundance in your life, the bounty around you, and that which you are harvesting or savoring.
stuck my legs straight up in the air and then spread them open to the sky. I brought my knees into my chest and laid there on the stone like a stranded beetle for a while thinking.
I had the sensation that I was waiting for something, some insight or inspiration or magical something to happen, and had a vague feeling of disappointment in such a “normal day” with no special lesson or encounter.
But, then I heard a small voice from within say:
“well, you got your spirit back, so there’s that.”
And, I decided that was enough.
On my way back to the house, there was a snail on a leaf.
I want to live my life allowing space to watch sunlight and shadow move to center.
As I emerged from our Cauldron Month, I received the Seed card from Womanrunes. This is a rune of waiting and ripening and is the perfect rune to consider during a time of processing and exploration. What did you find in the cauldron? What tender seed are you nourishing? What is getting ready to grow for you? To push up its first tender shoots of exploration and discovery?
Maybe this seems like an odd time of year to be speaking of new growth as the wheel of the year in the Northern Hemisphere moves towards autumn, but as we deepen into the shadows of the colder months of the year, I find my attention turns to those seeds we plant and nourish in our dark spaces.
“… we begin by making new metaphors. Without negating the light, we reclaim the dark: the fertile earth where the hidden seed lies unfolding, the unseen power that rises within us, the dark of sacred human flesh, the depths of the ocean, the night—when our senses quicken; we reclaim all the lost parts of ourselves we have shoved down into the dark. Instead of enlightenment, we begin to speak of deepening…”
I am the blossom, I am the bee I am the branch, I am the squirrel I am the acorn, I am the oak I am the breath, I am the words I am the space, I am the fullness I am the song of the May.
Happy Beltane to all! We brought in the May by the wild, flooded creek and river. I have never seen the water so high and intense! We offered our flower blessings to the churning, deep water, and sang together as we faced the wildly swirling torrents of water, accompanied by its music, awe-inspired at how quickly a landscape can change after several days of heavy rain.
Anthony Gresham
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