Eosturmonath: Easter Month.

Writer’s Note: The full moon in the United Kingdom took place on Thursday 6th April. This post is a bit late, sincerest apologies!

Full Moon ♎️

The Pink Moon or Paschal Moon over the budding birches to the east

“ Eosturmonath has a name which is now translated as ‘Paschal Month’, and which was named once called after a goddess of theirs named Eostre, in whose honour feasts were celebrated in that month. Now they designate that Paschal season by her name, calling the joys of the new rite by the time-honoured name of the old observance.” Bede, The Reckoning of Time.

Bede’s is the oldest and only account explicitly writing about the whole of the Easter season (and the feast) taking its name from an old goddess.

Unfortunately, there simply are no records of what the Anglo- Saxons celebrated on this month before it became a Christian festival. Neither are there any Pagan links to whom this Eostre was or what she was a goddess of. The only clue being her name in that it is related to other words meaning ‘dawn’: Eastre (Old English), Ôstara (Old High German), Austrō (Proto-Germanic). And because there aren’t any records of this goddess anywhere, Bede has been criticised as having made her up.

It was Jacob Grimm who, in 1835, rose to Bede’s defence in that there could have been a goddess of the dawn…. He had found a “spirit of light” named Austri in the Norse Prose Edda; Gylfaginning. Although this particular spirit was written male and the name used the masculine form for the word “dawn”, Grimm hypothesised that if there was a goddess, this would be the place to look….. especially when the words used by the Anglo-Saxons and other Germanic peoples was the feminine form. Rather than proving the existence of a goddess of the dawn, Grimm supposed this is possibly where it came from…. And if there was indeed such a cult then it was extinct before Christianity became dominant.

If we look at the regional use of the name for the fourth month: Eastro (masculine form) and Easturmonath were Northumbrian (NE coast). Eastre was used by the Mercians (The Midlands) and West Saxons (Wessex) as was the name Eastermonath. Then we can indeed see there was a shared name of the month possibly named for heralding the dawn; most likely because after the vernal equinox of March the days are significantly longer and people awoke to greeted by light.

Interestingly, the Old English used this name to mean “Paschal Month”, after the Hebrew Pesach, which is the Jewish festival of Passover. The rest of Christendom even used Pascha and variations of this to describe the celebration of the resurrection of Christ. Yet in England, this was Easter.

For early Christians, calculating Easter was a BIG thing…. Especially in England when there were two forms of Christianity. Calculating when Easter took place involved taking into account when Passover (Jewish celebration of the freedom of the Israelites from Egyptian rule) occurred. Because Passover takes place on the fifteenth day of the Hebrew month of Nisan in the evening, it typically takes place on the night of the full moon after the vernal equinox. Of course, due to leap years changing the dates of the calendar, Passover sometimes falls on the second full moon after the Vernal Equinox. Passover was believed to have been when Jesus Christ was executed.

Now, this is where the two strands of Christianity differed as when to celebrate Easter: the Celtic form of Christianity (as taught on the islands of Iona and Lindisfarne and was the original version taught across Great Britain and Ireland) taught that Easter was to be celebrated on the first Sunday after the full moon after the vernal Equinox. If Passover occurred at the same time, it didn’t matter…. They were celebrating Christ’s resurrection not his execution.

However, the newer form of Roman Catholicism viewed this very differently: Easter was to be celebrated on the first Sunday after Passover, after the full moon, after the vernal equinox.

This led to a lot of arguments between the two, especially as the Northumbrian king, Oswiu was celebrating his people’s Easter whilst his Roman Catholic wife expressed her displeasure at this being the “wrong time”. At the Synod of Whitby, 662, the Roman version of Christianity emerged the victor….

There are plenty of theories and conjecture about Eostre and of Bede’s account of the origin of the name.

My own take on it is that if Bede was correct in what he wrote, that Eostre was a goddess, then unfortunately she has been forgotten. I wonder if Eostre was referring not to a goddess as such, but to the red dawn of the sun: for in Germanic belief, the sun is written as female. And after the vernal equinox, the days lengthen and the plant life becomes more abundant with flowers opening and tree leaves and blossom growing too.

I also wonder if Eosturmonath and Eastermonath weren’t just differences in dialect between the Northumbrian and West Saxons….. what if each was attributed to the Celtic and Roman reckonings of Easter?

These are my thoughts and like the mystery of Eostre, we’ll never really know for sure.

Whether this season is about the name of a forgotten deity, the celebration of a more well known one, the freedom of a once-enslaved people, or simply the welcome return of the light and warmth of the sun bringing with it an abundance of flowers, leaves and grass, I wish you a Happy Easter.

Be well!

Locksley. /|\

Hred-Monath: Glory Month

Full Moon ♍️

Worm moon through the trees….. or is it something not of this Earth?

March has arrived and as the hazel and alder catkins have become long and fluffy, as the willow trees begin to grow their leaves; spring is truly upon us.

Bede, in his ‘De Temporum Ratione’ is the only person to write about the goddess associated with this month:

“Hrethmonath is named for their goddess Hretha, to whom they sacrificed at this time.”

Which leaves us with more questions than answers: who was sacrificed? What was sacrificed? How? And why? Although Bede also mentions that this month falls between Solmonath and Eostremonath (February and April, respectively). And one begins to wonder if March was the month that the offerings of the cakes baked in February were now given up in sacrifice.

March is the month when the green of the trees begins to return, purple crocuses and yellow daffodils already brighten up the grassland, for the trees the sap rises and if not budding, then the fresh leaves are beginning to grow. Bird song becomes more active and musical. Life is indeed awakening and with it the energy of the land in rebirth.

Unfortunately Bede provides no details of this Hreda, only that sacrifices were made to her during this month. It is entirely possible Bede was telling us the memory of a memory from his ancestors where sacrifices were made to encourage the end of winter. It is also entirely possible he knew nothing of this goddess and made up the idea of sacrifice…. Or he was using this as a comparison to the idea of Lent in fasting: this being a sacrificial act in itself.

Curiously enough, the old Anglo-Saxon word for the season of spring was lenten ‘lengthen’ as in the lengthening of daylight as the nights grew shorter. Because Easter can take place in either March or April (depending on when the full moon after March Equinox takes place), lenten came to describe the period of time starting when the 40 day fast began and all the way through Easter. In time it became shortened down to lent and was given to the period of the fast. And so, lenten became synonymous with both the season we now call spring and the run up to Easter.

Hreda comes from the Old English Hreda meaning ‘glory’, ‘fame’ and ‘Victory’. And even though Bede didn’t give us much to go on about this goddess, I can see how after the bleakness of winter; the melting of snow and ice, the returning bird song and the growth of flower and tree once again must seem like both victory and glory as life renews.

Ironically, I’m writing this as Great Britain is going through a cold snap and there may even be snow tomorrow!

Whether you see this month as a return to the lighter times ahead, or the end of the dark and cold, or you are showing your devotion to your God in taking part in Lent, I wish you a very merry March indeed.

Glory and victory to you!

Locksley /|\

Patience (Lessons from the Hazel Tree)

New Moon ♏️

“I reach for the light, though I can grow in the shade.

I can grow as one, though I can grow as many.

My nuts form in summer, though they fall in autumn.

They feed many and go back to Earth, I travel with them.

“My lesson is patience:

A time to grow,

A time to flower,

A time to fruit,

A time to release.

For all have their time.”

Though the leaves turn, the catkins “Lamb’s Tails” are just forming….

Alban Elfed- “Light of the Water”

New Moon ♍️

Whitby Harbour, 23rd September 2022

I have to admit, September is my favourite month. I’m biased, of course. Devi and I got married two years ago and we’re still celebrating our second year anniversary by going around Whitby (yes again, but we love it here) and by the sea. Which is fitting because we got married on the beach in Argyll, Scotland with the Paps of Jura behind us, a truly magical day!

And it’s a truly magical month, not only are the fruits on trees and plants full of flavour, falling to earth or ready to be picked, but there are lengthening shadows, beautiful sunrise and sunset colours, changing colours in the leaves, morning and evening coolness and yet warmth in the sun. And the sky has different shades of blue….. the longer nights are coming!

This year, the autumnal equinox fell on the same day as our wedding anniversary and the photo taken that evening (above) summed up my feelings and thoughts of Alban Elfed, the modern Druid celebration of ‘The Light of the Water’.

We didn’t realise it until we got here, but the whole weekend has been the Whitby Fish and Chip festival. This has had various talks on sustainability, raising awareness of Climate Change and there’s even been a push for encouraging people to do one small thing to help in the fight against it. There have been workshops on how to dress a crab and prepare fish, there have even been performances of sea shanties, storytelling and even traditional clog dancing too. And of course various restaurants being visited for that British staple: fish and chips!

Thinking about it, it’s almost like Devi and I had come to an entirely different sort of harvest festival, not one of fruits and vegetables of the land, but the bounty of the sea.

And as if to emphasise the lesson I’ve been thinking of this autumn, it can be characterised by a boat at sea. And this lesson is “Let it go.”

I would love to say I am a completely zen-natured and calm individual always finding a a quiet solution to everything…… I’m not. I’m human, I overthink things, and I when I make mistakes I can brood and sulk about them for hours. I mentally punish myself over and over until something else takes my attention then I can move on. In short, I take things personally and get very defensive because I didn’t get it right the first time. That’s a lot of shit to put on myself and it is entirely self induced.

This has been a year about developing a sense of thinking in the present. The second a mistake is made, or I hadn’t thought of something that should have been common sense, or made a wrong choice, it’s done. So instead of ruminating on the said mistake and feeling despondent, I’ve been teaching myself to “let it go”. And those are the three words that I immediately fire up as soon as something goes wrong. Let. It. Go. Why am I taking this so personally? Behaving like a child isn’t going to fix the situation, so let it go. By no means am I using this to ignore a problem, more it’s of recognising an error and determine if it’s something I can I can put right there and then. If it isn’t, accept it, acknowledge it, learn from it and move on. Let it go.

The people of Whitby are proud of their maritime heritage, the fishermen of this town respect the sea because they know it can mean life and death in the waves.

I don’t think it’s any mistake that the sea is often used as a symbol for our emotions, there’s a reason ships only go out when the seas are calm. However, should a vessel find itself caught in a storm, the crew have to put their emotions aside in order to find the clarity needed in order to get out of it. Doesn’t mean the mixture of emotions aren’t there, they have to let it go in order to do what they must. And when I think of some of the things I stress myself about, they pale in comparison to what a crew have to do in order to make themselves safe and stay alive.

So yes, it’s that kind of detached clear thinking I must seek, so when I encounter a problem, I’m not being overwhelmed or distracted by the waves of my emotions. In ‘let it go’ I am in fact reminding myself to take the objective point of view in order to work the solution if it’s in my power to do so. And by letting it go, I am also being kinder to myself and others.

Autumnal Blessings and may the Light on the Water show you your bounty.

Locksley. /|\

Been a Druid for 12 years and all I got was this lousy….

New Moon ♌️

It strikes me that I’ve been practising and learning my Druidry for 12 years this year.

It was all the way back in 2010 when I came across a book called “The Druid Renaissance” in a charity shop (thrift store), a collection of essays by modern Druids and all members of the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids. This was also the same year my good friend, Kelly had lent me her Introductory Package to the Druid courses OBOD had to offer and so I took the plunge. Went online, paid the subscription and awaited the course material with eagerness.

To say my life has totally changed since then would be an understatement. To say that Druidry was the constant in my life since now and then would be a lie: it too, like my life, has changed, grown, fallen and grown again.

There are different approaches to Druidry besides OBOD and not all of them suit everybody, but I’m happy where I am and with the Order to which I belong. OBOD is a mystery tradition and so I cannot go into specific practices or ways of working.

However, I can share with you what I have learned in my 12 years of practise and study and how even though the methods and lessons I use and learn from are from OBOD, my specific Druidry is becoming my own….

What I wanted it to be: By 2010 I was already Pagan and had been so since 1999. Curiously, I was Christian before that after coming to it when I was 9 years old. By the time I was 19, I found Christianity answered some of my questions but not all; so I explored elsewhere.

When Druidry came into my life (as above) I was fascinated- at last, here we are! A key to the original religion of Britain and Ireland and therefore a way of connecting to the indigenous practices of the Pre-Roman peoples!

I wanted it to be a tradition from ages past, I wanted a Druid to be a mixture of shaman and survival expert. Even after reading Peter Berresford-Ellis’ book ‘A Brief History of the Druids’ (which I had found by chance in my workplace back in 2006) I believed that there MUST be an unbroken link and that Berresford-Ellis was being far too cynical about these modern Druids….

What I discovered: there is no unbroken link and that classical and modern Druids are different things. Very different things indeed! Druids belonged to a culture that is no longer with us. Great Britain and Ireland no longer have the caste systems that the Celtic people of those times had. Not only that, but the only people who kept true to the languages are the Scottish, Cornish, Welsh, Irish and Manx. The Druids themselves adapted with the times and became part of the newer religion. At least that last part is according to Berresford-Ellis.

Ronald Hutton in his ‘Blood and Mistletoe’ questions if “Druids” existed at all and even goes so far to question whether the people the Romans attacked on the Isle of Mons (Anglesey) were indeed the last of the Druids…. Either way people were massacred. I personally believe that Druids were the intellectual caste of the Celtic tribes and the Romans did what they could to suppress and even destroy them…. What was left adapted to the times.

I use the terms ‘Classical’ and ‘Modern’ Druids to differentiate between those whom were written about in the Classical accounts by Greek, Romans and Romanised Celts (Virgil may have come from a family of them) and those who started calling themselves ‘Druids’ from the 18th Century onwards.

I discovered Modern Druids are all exploring their own versions of Druidry. Some are reclaiming their cultural heritage, some are attempting to recreate what they were, some are using it as a sense of cultural identity and others (like myself) acknowledge what they were and what they did and know that we are different from them. But we still take inspiration from them. In fact, I think that’s the one thing that ALL modern Druids can agree on.

What I learned: It’s ok to learn from our mistakes and if something doesn’t feel right, don’t do it. The performer in me wants to learn the rituals off by heart and that’s exactly what I did.

What I learned during my time with the original Grove of the Corieltauvi was to not take ritual and ceremony too seriously, I still remember attending my very first Grove ceremony and meeting the Grove members of the time and for Simon to call the wrong element in the wrong cardinal direction. But he owned it, that was the thing! He owned his mistakes. On the flip side, I also saw what happened when people take ceremony far too seriously, where people become meticulous in the form then wonder why it didn’t feel “spiritual”.

I also learned I didn’t want to use Irish words and terms for the sake of appearing “Druidy”. I certainly didn’t and don’t want to appropriate the Irish and use their terms because “that’s what we do”. That’s why last year I started using “Bringing in the May” instead of Beltane, Lammas instead of Lughnasadh and Halloween instead of Samhain….. I haven’t found one for Imbolc yet and I don’t want to use the term “Candlemas” as that’s Christian. I’m still wrapping my head around this one and at a Lammas ceremony here in Nottingham I gave a brief description acknowledging both Lammas and Lughnasadh as it felt right to do so. Any Gaelic terms I do use, I acknowledge where it came from: The Irish Ogham, for example or Awen as the Welsh for inspiration.

The biggest thing I learned was something that OBOD is very big on and I’m even applying into my everyday life: if it doesn’t feel right, don’t do it. This isn’t a spoiler by any means, but I’ve had to adapt my Druid practice for when I’ve moved house several times, I’ve even changed from doing “when it feels right” to making sure I do it on a Sunday evening for either meditation or study, sometimes both. There are certain practices I do now that didn’t when I first started and there are things I haven’t done since my Bardic Grade. That and just taking a present mindset with everything. Right now I’m studying the Irish Ogham and not only learning about native trees, but the properties and folklore of each of those trees. I have chosen to do this because it felt right to do so and I recognised I cannot carry on in my present course material until I have fully explored the Ogham. Because in my mind I’d always be thinking about it and feel like I’m missing something if I don’t do it.

What my Druidry is now: Respect for all things, observing and celebrating the season, looking for wonder.

This isn’t something the OBOD material has shown me, it’s something I came to on my own. A fundamental aspect of both my practise and my beliefs are about showing respect: to other people, to other Druids, to other Druid orders, courses and directions. Respect to all other faiths and those who have none. Respect to those who come from a Celtic culture and of their languages. Respect to my own history, culture and people as well as the Land, the world and all the other beings I get to share it with. To the spirits of the place as well as the dead. And of course, respect for myself.

The more I observed the world around me and actively watching the seasons, I found a brand new respect for that too. I also found that my beliefs in deity changed as well and instead of the world being populated by gods running around the place, the world and everything in it is part of the divine!

And every now and then the divine lets you know it’s there: it might be something working in your favour, it might even be some act of synchronicity.

I like to give thanks by giving back, whether it’s the first fruits I pick from the garden or by simply raising a glass and paying respects to my gods (the divine), my ancestors, the spirits around me, or to the bountiful Earth, the life giving Sun and the Moon, ruler of tides and dream. I learned that as educational as it is to observe the landscape, it’s also important to seek the divine within that, to keep an eye out for anything that brings a sense of wonder.

In conclusion, In religion and any spirituality, there is no “True Way”. Any way that leads to the destruction and harm of others is about control and dominance. Any way that nurtures and allows for people to grow as well show respect for themselves and everyone and thing around them, that’s something else. Any practice, even be it a Pagan practice and Druid practice cannot be limited to a single path….. rather they are paths that lead to forests and it’s in those forests we find there is plenty to learn if we take the time to actually look.

Thank you for reading.

Locksley. /|\

Sihouetted tree before the setting sun at Newstead Abbey, Nottinghamshire. Photo by Locksley2010.

Midsummer Special: Fairy Lore

2nd Waning Crescent ♈️ (23rd night)

The Summer Solstice and Midsummer have been linked to what we call fairy lore for generations. In fact, in the traditions of Yorkshire and beyond here in the British and Irish Isles, the time around both summer and winter solstices were seen as magical times. As they are again.

Perhaps these are left over echoes of practices from our Stone-Age ancestors, or maybe they came about in respect for spirits of the land; or most likely evolved out of rituals for which the original purposes have now been lost in time.

When picking the strawberries from our plant in the garden, I remembered something I had read describing a Yorkshire custom whilst fruit picking: that folk would cast the first fruits picked over their shoulder as an offering to spirits. Although the author, Liz Linahan, writes this of blackberries (bramble berries), specifically, it being the solstice yesterday (21st June) I decided to honour this belief. The first strawberry picked was thrown over my shoulder with a little dedication to the Spirits of the Land. I popped it back into the pot for the insects to claim.

Not a bad bounty that!

Linahan also wrote of other beliefs from my Yorkshire kin that I hadn’t heard of before, such as the belief that the spirits of the dead were thought to become fairies and that sometimes they would reside in flowers! Linahan writes of the associated flowers as being the fox glove and the broad bean, even writing that people believed accidents were more frequent to happen during the broad-bean flowering time!

Foxgloves, definitely NOT broad beans!

Foxgloves themselves are said to be worn by foxes as a charm around their necks to protect against being hunted. Though the foxglove is toxic to our touch, it has been prescribed for treatment of the heart since at least the Romano-Celtic times.

We do get a lot of foxes in our garden, but they seem more interested in sitting in the sun than trying to put their paws around the flowers to make necklaces….

Fox cub getting comfy…. Can’t water the garden (including the foxgloves) now can I!?

I’m not one for believing in fairies, but I do believe every place has their own spirit. I also believe in showing respect and gratitude, and last night’s private celebration of Midsummer saw me grateful and thankful for everything and everyone I have.

Sources:

Liz Lanahan, More Pit Ghosts, Padfeet and Poltergeists, The King’s England Press, Rotherham, 1996.

Terriwindling.com

All photos by Locksley2010.

Whitby 2022

New Moon ♊️

Thursday 26th May marked 125 Years since Bram Stoker’s famous novel ‘Dracula’ came out. At Whitby Abbey they held an event to get as many people dressed as vampires as possible together…. There were 1369 of them!

Sadly, Devi and I couldn’t make it, but we did get to visit Whitby one weekend in early May.

The photos below may look like there was no one around, but let’s just say I took these at the right times (early morning and a couple of evening shots)- especially on the infamous 199 steps and Henrietta Street, seconds later both were swarmed with tourists and school children. Sadly, it was because of the popularity of this town I wasn’t able to get photos of The Dracula Experience or Arguments Yard, or even Justin’s Fudge Shop.

I won’t be giving any in depth posts, even bloggers need a holiday. 😉

For all of you, enjoy:

The infamous Whalebone Arch, the original ones were erected in 1853, replaced in 1963 and again in 2003- these are the jaw bones from a bowhead whale killed by Alaskan Inuits. Rather than displayed for sport, this is a commemoration for Whitby’s whaling past as it was a dangerous business.

Sunset of our first night here.

Same view (sort of) of the above pic on the morning we left for home.

Within the harbour.

The east and west piers, the east one’s said to be haunted….

Emma Stothard’s sculptures of ‘The Herring Girls’. Very hard to photograph without the bins in the background though!

Early part of our 5 mile walk.

I do miss the Yorkshire bluntness, Bollocking translation: “A VERY heated telling off!”

Oh my gorse! …. I’ll get my coat….

View from the east coast.

Couldn’t resist a couple of photos of the Abbey!

Caedmon memorial cross, St Mary’s Church.

Caedmon was England’s first recorded poet. He was a monk of the Abbey, which was then called ‘Streaneshalch’. Supposedly he wasn’t in anyway artistic until he had a dream telling him to sing of the creation of all things.

One local author describes these as ‘The jaws of the harbour’.

The 199 steps! I recall a vague memory about the steps and if you count them and find there are less than 199, then that means you’ll die soon! Or something like that.

Henrietta Street, further up is a traditional smoked kipper shop.

Classic good old fashioned fish ‘n’ chips. Or, if you really want to know: traditional battered cod, beef dripping fried chips and mushy peas. Beautiful!

Praise we the fashioner now of Heaven’s fabric,
The majesty of his might and his mind’s wisdom,
Work of the world-warden, worker of all wonders,
How he the Lord of Glory everlasting
Wrought first for the race of men Heaven as a roof-tree,
Then made he Middle Earth to be their mansion.

Caedmon, English Heritage Translation.

Real Times of Magic

New Moon ♈️ (ok, it’s the night after…. What? Some people consider this the new moon!

March has been and gone, and with it the Spring Equinox (Vernal Equinox does sound better, doesn’t it?) the time of change, of growth and new beginnings.

I have to admit, I actually like the equinoxes; by the time we reach the Vernal and Autumnal equinoxes real change has occurred as the effects of the appropriate season have kicked in.

The solstices might be the “sexier” of the solar celebrations and hog the limelight, what with the Green Man motif of the Oak King/Holly King being attached. But as dominant as they are (indeed the winter and summer solstices are recognised and celebrated the world over), their progress is subtle. The darker nights gradually become lighter, the longer days gradually become shorter.

By the times of either equinox, we’re in the full flow of the increasing or decreasing light or dark. In spring, everything is waking up in the plant realm and the bird song is as loud as it is varied. There is a general feel of rejuvenation and even though winter might still have a presence there are definite signs of summer approaching too. In autumn, there is a sense of magic in the air, a definite shift in the seasons as summer’s warmth begins to ebb and there’s a particular delight and satisfaction in picking the fruits. Whereas trees such as weeping willow, birch and alder and poplar begin the gaining of their green in spring, by autumn, leaves change into fiery gold, amber and blazing red.

Once upon a time, I considered not celebrating either equinox at all, but it was when observing the land around me and seeing these were actual times of change and transition that I gained a new appreciation for them. It also helped that we got married on the day after the autumn equinox, giving further meaning to this time.

What I also love about both seasons is the longer dawns and sunsets; bringing with them a real sense of magic in the earth as well as the sky.

If there was any time of the year where I would say magic could be truly felt, it would be in these solar times of dawn and dusk where the day begins, the day ends and if it’s something both the Celts and the Anglo-Saxons shared in common…. It was that the dusk of the evening heralded the new day.

Some might say this is a council estate with a sunset, I say it’s a new day looking over a skeletal tree and a newly bloomed magnolia, Beauty surrounds us if we know where to look.

Wanderlust: A Poem

New Moon ♍️

The song rises from within, To fulfil the need as one must breathe. The pull to go outside yearns from within, To fulfil the urge as one must wake.

I can’t sit or lay; I must go beyond the shade and walls of comfort. I can’t sit or lay; I must cross familiar paths and go beyond the known world.

Let the sea of green surround me in waves of autumn’s treasure. Let the sea of blue crash upon me in the surf of silver, copper and gold.

Let the endless track take me beyond the known maps of “Here be Dragons.” Let the sun cut through mystery’s fog and reveal endless choice.

“I must go on”. The song rings within my blood- Pushing ever onwards. “I must go on,” though the way is unknown- Pulling ever onwards.

The path leads ever onwards….. until it’s time to go home, of course!

Midsummer 2021

3rd Waxing Gibbous ♏️

Taken 30 mins after sunrise.

Today began with slow awakening, thick grey lightening up with pockets of light.

Traces of pink scattered the east, the promise of sun blocked by banks of green.

Heavy anthracite cracked and melted in a sea of pastel blue and shots of silver.

Warm sunlight is caressed by the cooling wind, there are rain drop kisses if I stand still.

Same gentle breeze keeps the leaves chattering in their choir, and wind chimes sing their song.

Those first shy drops later become tentative splashes, then lovingly embrace all in sight.

The verdant green stands firm, pulsing life and soaking up all that is given.

* * *

May the dawn greet you, may the sun shine upon you, may the longest day bring you joy.

Locksley. /|\