Monday, 8 August 2011
I stood in the ritual space looking up through the branches at the moonlight silvering the dark green leaves of the Giant Cycad and it was as if the sentinel trees around this intensely holy space had called me just to show off their beauty.
I'm feeling that it's still a bit chilly at night, so I went inside and loaded my altar with silver candles of many shapes and sizes, a pair of ivory candles looming over all. Their flames flicked across the silver and crystal like the Moon was licking the Cycad outside. I felt the fire in the Mother's belly, and was content.
Yes, it's me late to the feast as usual. Those of us who celebrate the astonomical Cross Quarters are always the last ones to put their shoulders to the Wheel, therefore we have only to nudge it, mostly, to get it to spin really well.
So a very merry Imbolc (or Fire Down Below) to all my Southern friends and readers. And to those in the North, a happy Lughnasadh!