Just lovin’ my fall yard. #gratitude
Copyright (c) 2016 by Raindrop Ridge Press
I’m still lying in the bed…I can hear birds outside, a car next door. The sun is shining through the blinds. For some reason it feels like spring and like it should be warm out there. But my big quilt feels good and I know it’s actually cold because it was in the 20s when I went to bed last night. Wishful thinking, I guess.
I’m interested in learning more about Celtic spirituality, being of Irish descent. I do know that August 1 (or thereabouts) is celebrated as Lughnasa (named for the god Lugh). It celebrates autumn and the harvest. Lugh was a very multi-talented, multi-skilled god of light. According to some sources I’ve read, Lughnasa has traditionally been celebrated much like our Thanksgiving (my favorite holiday!) with friends, good food (always!), games, and festivals. Here in my neck of the woods it won’t be too long until we celebrate Mountain Heritage Day, which I think pretty much embodies the spirit of Lughnasa even if it’s celebrated a little later. Against the beautiful backdrop of the mountains we listen to old mountain music, watch craft demonstrations, listen to stories and watch dancers, and, of course, eat! What’s a festival or celebration without breaking bread together? I know it’s a little early to get excited about autumn when it’s still getting up in the 90s but when the Joe Pye starts blooming and school buses are cranking up, I know fall isn’t far behind, with a visit to Barber’s Apple Orchard, the beautiful bright colors, and that “feels like fall” sensation you get more and more, so here’s to Lughnasa and the coming of fall and all of its treasures, and the bounty of neighbors’ gardens.
It took a long time of living for autumn to become my favorite season of the year, but then I realized how special it was in its own right and it didn’t just mean cold weather and winter are coming next. One thing I’ve learned is that every season has gifts, wonderful gifts, if I just let myself look it at that way and honor the wheel of the year, the waxing and waning, the planting and the harvest, the living and dying.
I am the sovereign splendor of creation
I am the fountain in the courts of bliss
I am the bright surrender of the willpower
I am the watchful guardian and the kiss
I am the many-colored landscape
I am the transmigration of the geese
I am the burnished glory of the breastplate
I am the harbor where all strings cease
(by Caitlin Matthews)
Copyright (c) 2011 by Raindrop Ridge Press