
Acorns & Sycamore seeds
If you are out and about and you find seeds on the ground do collect one or two but leave some for Mother Nature to do her thing. However if there are plenty then they can be really useful in spell work.
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No one loves Imbolc as much as me. Well, okay, that’s probably not true but this point on the wheel of the year is one of my favorites. As an avid gardener, I may in fact savor it even more than Ostara. By the time spring equinox rolls around, new life is everywhere--birds back from southern points, baby bunnies peeking out of shrubs, early spring flowers blooming. At Imbolc, it’s still at least part dream, and a beautiful dream at that! When we walk into the woods, the kids notice that in some spots the ground is no longer crunchy and frozen under foot.There are little patches of green, likely the hairy bittercress and henbit that will soon make neighboring lawn fanatics crazy. The cold world is gradually warming and stirring, ready to come back to life before long.
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All summer long the little clay goddess has stood in the good, brown earth of the garden.
All summer long she has watched over the waxing of the crops.
Now, standing in a bowl of seed wheat, she presides over the Harvest Supper.
(On Midwinter's Eve we will eat this self-same wheat, made sweet with honey, rich with almonds and poppy seed, perfumed with rose water, from this very bowl.)
And when the last bite has been taken, the last toast poured, she will go to her bed in the storage cupboards, with the fruits of summer all around her.
My seed catalogs have started to arrive in the mail. The glossy summer-bright photos are inspiring and awe-inducing (Moon and Stars Melons! Nebraska Wedding Tomatoes!), and also humbling. Each packet of seeds contains worlds of potential What in this universe holds more promise than a seed? Each tiny package is a life in stasis. Every seed on this planet contains knowledge: knowledge of self, knowledge of its needs and its future. A seed knows not to grow until it has been placed in the proper environment. Each seed knows when to allow itself to break apart and become something else, stretching toward the sun's light and the future.
Every seed is aware of its purpose. It knows why it was placed in this world and what it needs to do to achieve that purpose. We are not so fortunate. We lack the inner instruction manual that seeds possess. All too often we feel as though we are floundering, struggling to break out of our confines and grow into the Self we are meant to be.
...Now they stand knee-deep in the good, tilled earth of our gardens and fields, bestowing their gift of fruitfulness, as they have since the end of the last Great Ice.
Call them the Clay Ladies.
But come winter, what then?
To ask is to know.
Of course the Mothers do not stand in the fields all winter long, buried in snow.