The Festival of Brigit

Brige in February

I saw her last week, coming down from the sky
with a white following
billowing up in a furl of swansdown
loud as the quickening wind.

She flew in over the blue rooftops
over the flatlands and the hills
over etched white horses and towers
over islands couched deep in the violet of snow.

Her feet were gold, fire-blinding, striking
sparks from the earth-anvil, flares
and radiance coming off her
flash-fires of light - light storms

Lambs sip milk from the ewes
swan-clans strut the meadows
the snake has come from her hole
tongue flicking at the new
shiver of green in the wind,
the blind opaque squints of the furrows
are opening, transparent as sky

She'll strip the iron habit of winter out of your bones
lick the glow of gold in a flush through your skin -
open your mouth to her kiss
she'll inspire you,
her spark in your heart
the beginning of healing
the ancient beginning of new life's song.

© Rose Flint

Be beautiful and enjoy and live! Edward Thomas

January

Suddenly a pheasant is hurled out of a neighbouring copse; something crosses the road; and out over a large and shining meadow goes a fox, tall and red, going easily as if he sailed in the wind. He crosses that meadow, then another, and he is half a mile away before a loud halloo sounds in the third field, and a mile away before the first hound crosses the road upon his scent.

 Run hard, hounds, and drown the jackdaws' calling with your concerted voices. It is good to see your long swift train across the meadow and away; on such a day a man would give everything to run like that. Run hard, fox, and may you escape, for it would not be well to die on such on a day, unless you could perchance first set your fair teeth into the throats of the foolish ones who now break through the hedge on great horses and pursue you - I know not why - ignorant of the command that has gone forth from the heart of this high blue heaven, Be beautiful and enjoy and live!

Edward Thomas: from The Heart of England

Blwyddyn Newydd Dda - Happy New Year!

Winter Solstice Meditation

As our planet turns away from the sun may we earth-dwellers rest easy in the darkness, finding in it a place of regeneration and creativity. As we each light our small flames to remember the greater radiance, to call ourselves back to it, let us remember that we are creatures born of the light and the dark, our bodies and minds attuned to the rhythms of a greater universe.

In an age when we worship light and stake our lives on the power of electricity, may we remember the wisdom born of darkness and rest with openness and fortitude in its cloak. As the days go by, may we greet the return of the light strengthened by our sojourn in the mantle of its conjoined twin, the darkness, without which the light could not exist.

If, as the Mayans believed, we are moving into a new cycle, may it be one in which we come to understand fully our place among the other denizens of our world; may sacredness return to all our transactions, those between ourselves but also those with other living beings and with the material elements of earth. At this time of gift exchange, as we strengthen our bonds with family, friends and neighbours, may we understand that the gifts and talents of all, not just our own small circle, are needed by us all and therefore nurturing each other is an act of mutual benefit..

For all things we share this world with - whether they are animate or inanimate, seen or unseen - have gifts to offer - to us, to each other, to the earth. If, in true reciprocity, we honour what they are, what they give, may we come to know ourselves as true citizens of the earth and find an undreamed of fulfillment and harmony in sharing, exchanging and nurturing rather than in plundering, appropriating and dominating.

Rob fír fírthar, rob bríg brígther (Old Irish) - May it be a truth that is fulfilled, may it be a power that is enacted.

The Sea Road: available soon

My poetry booklet The Sea Road is now in print. I'm very pleased with the way it's come out. There are twenty-five poems and artwork by local artist Jenny Fell. I took down my previous post about it as I had a hitch with the payment details and it seems to have disappeared! As I'm busy again preparing to go away for the poetry performances in London, I'm going to wait until I get back to launch it here. Meanwhile, you can see an image of it on the sidebar.

Leeks and Bounds

Last year, around the time I was aware of the presence of Cernunnos and writing about him, I realised that my way of gardening was in some part a metaphor for the way I am in life - and not in a good way. The most obvious thing was my management of the vegetable patch. I had demarcated a small bit of soil to grow a few veg, notably leeks, but several other species - forget-me-nots, evening primrose mainly - decided opportunistically that this was a perfect place for them to grow - as indeed it was. Instead of pulling them up I let them stay with the result that they drew nourishment from the leeks which didn't thrive. I ended up with a few stunted ones and lots of wild flowers.

The reasons I didn't pull up the 'weeds' were various - I don't like to kill things; I like living things to 'do their own thing'; I was quite pleased that flowers I liked were coming into my garden. It's true that the evening primrose made a wonderful display in the autumn, the patio becoming an avenue of bright and vibrant yellow, but it was at the cost of the leeks and made the work I had put into enriching the soil and nurturing the leeks almost null and void...

So this year I decided I would be ruthless and not allow any other plants beside the ones I had chosen to grow in the vegetable patch. I steeled myself and pulled up the rosebay willow herb, the lady's mantle, the forget-me-nots and evening primrose (though a few sneaked in). Result: 23 leeks which are substantial, tasty and glossy with health - and that's in spite of the slugs which have been feasting on the outer leaves but leaving me the important core. "Look at those leeks!" visitors have exclaimed.

These leeks as metaphor are a potent reminder to me to be focused and assertive. I have a tendency to want other people to do their own thing even if it isn't what I want to do - which is why it suits me to live alone I think - so that I can have my own way!

Also, I am easily distracted and that seeps energy and time away from projects. I need to weed out the distractions and trivia that leach energy and nourishment. A bit of discipline... just a bit, nothing oppressive, bearing in mind that my energy is limited and pushing myself always ends up being counter-productive.

But it doesn't mean that I'll end up being totally selfish. Compromise and reciprocity can be fruitful and others, like the slug in the picture above, may still benefit from things we do and what we grow in the world, without damaging what we need for our own nourishment and sabotaging the work we put into it.

Word Distillery Blog

Tina Warren reading at the Russkiy Mir bookshop, London

I've been facilitating a blog for The Word Distillery - the poetry group I perform with. There are pages for each poet with a short description and samples of his or her work as well as the latest news, pictures and forthcoming events.

If you'd like to have a look, click here: The Word Distillery

Lughnasadh, Ffest y Bugeiliaid and celebrating the Garden.

As far as one can tell, Wales didn't have a tradition of the celebration of first fruits like Lughnasadh in Ireland or Lammas in the Anglo-Saxon world. But there was a festival in Ceredigion, the area of Wales where I live, for Calan Awst, August 1st, known as ffest y bugeiliaid - the shepherd's feast - which involved the young shepherds and cowherders going to the top of a hill and feasting, after which they'd have contests and feats of strength until darkness fell.

I do celebrate August 1st as a festival of first fruits, and have decided to honour the antlered god Cernunnos then. He isn't known to have a particular feast day and I chose to assign it to the time of ffest y bugeiliaid in my personal observances partly because I see him as having an affinity with Lugh (who is traditionally said to have instigated the festival of Lughnasadh), partly because he is associated with mediating the fruits of the wild to humankind and partly because in my personal pantheon I see him as a complement to Brigit whose festival is exactly opposite to Lughnasadh, 6 months earlier (or later) on February 1st.

Sadly I couldn't find any first fruits to put on the altar today (I thought more of the blueberries would have ripened but they haven't) so I collected some of the different varieties of roses which have bloomed wonderfully all summer in spite of the rain and also offered some carrot cake I baked yesterday (it's delicious, if I do say so myself!)

It's not been a great summer from a growing point of view because of the persistent rain. Yet it all started off so well with the runner beans I planted in pots and put on the window-sill. They started to come up in less than a week and it was so exciting and uplifting to see the compost starting to be pushed up and then the young shoots raising their heads. Quite quickly they became tall and I had to plant them out...

I did so on a day that was my day for tending Brigit's flame and it was such a joyous experience. "Can there be anything better", I thought, "than planting out runner beans in the sun" as I made the bamboo tent and gently put them into the warming earth with a silent blessing. But it was not to be... the slugs were out in force and gradually munched their way through every one. I don't like to use slug pellets, even the environmentally-friendly ones since someone told me it dissolves the slugs from the inside out... but I was so upset at the rate at which the seedlings were being consumed that I did put out a dish of guinness (5 years out of date) I'd found in the cupboard. I don't like killing things but I had decided to fight not only for the plants but for the work that had gone into raising them (having chronic fatigue and being on crutches, gardening is not very easy, simply getting them from the window-sill onto the planting site needs quite a bit of thought and effort). The slugs loved the guinness and many died drinking it. But it didn't stop them eating the bean plants first and in the end I had to accept that I wasn't going to be left even with one.

So I pulled out the bare stalks and bought some swiss chard which I have grown successfully before, in spite of the slugs. But they munched their way through all those too...  the same with two courgettes and a pumpkin Em who helps me in the garden planted for me. Then they started on the leeks which slugs are traditionally thought not to like... but at a slower rate and mostly the ends of the leaves, so that when the good weather came and they weren't around so much the leeks had a chance to grow. I shall be harvesting them eventually I think. (Here they are, in need of a bit of watering and banking up.)

This year I have only about 8 plums on the tree and the bramley apple didn't even bother to flower... But the fiesta eating apple has 15 small red apples on it - the most I've had - and they look so bright and cheerful.

And the strawberries were wonderful! I had handfuls with my yogurt every night for weeks and they were beautifully sweet like last year. From two or three plants I bought three years ago they have spread all along the patch I'd reserved for vegetables... but I let them as they've been one of the most successful crops with the least work. I had a few blackcurrants, just enough to make a blackcurrant and apple crumble when the family came (they need transplanting, being too near a clump of irises and peonies that weren't in evidence when we put  them in), a few handfuls of raspberries and I have already had a lot of the blueberries which have ripened in dribs and drabs.

I still have two courgettes in pots which I haven't dared to plant out as I know they'll immediately be eaten like the others. What to do? I've put them in larger pots since they have started to flower... as yet none of them have ripened into courgettes though and I just read today that they grow well on the compost heap and I'm wondering about asking Em to plant them out there next time she comes. The slugs are not so abundant at the top of the garden.

The potatoes I've been growing in pots were doing very well but even they are being slowly eaten by something. I think it is the slugs - I did find some black ones tucked down the sides of the container and took them away but I haven't managed to catch any since though I have seen some large ones lurking with possible intent and moved them. So I'm not sure if there will actually be any tubers to harvest. But the dwarf beans I planted in pots are - fingers crossed - doing well. I put vaseline round the top of the pots like last year and that does seem to be working again.

Although it's been disappointing losing so many vegetables to the slugs this year, in a way I welcome it. It keeps me aware of what is real; puts me in touch with the ancestors who grew their food round here, with subsistence farmers in other countries. It makes me aware of the difficulty of growing crops and how powerless we are in the face of nature. And I think of how lucky I am to be able to go to the Co-op and buy vegetables to eat, as so many people in other countries can't do. And how lucky I am that I can afford to buy fresh vegetables which are expensive, when so many people in this country are living below the poverty line.

I meditated today - not for the first time - on the things I associate with Cernunnos - reciprocity, giving something back for what you take out, keeping boundaries, the way in which the fertility of the wild is accessed by us.

***

We had a few days of sunny weather for a while and I enjoyed the garden all the more for their rarity. All in all there has been much to celebrate - the roses, the strawberries (I shared them with ants and wood-lice but there were enough for us all), the handfuls of berries. Sweet peas, buddleia, the expectation of leeks and beans and potatoes... Clover and self-heal and bird's foot trefoil in the long grass; water-lilies, pond-skaters and the shy newts in the pond... the odd bright blue damsel-fly...

The family came and we had an unexpectedly sunny weekend, some of which we spent in the garden. I was able to show my three-year old grandson around its nooks and crannies and he helped me pick blackcurrants and strawberries. Just what I'd always imagined being a granny would be like!

the garden blossoms and ripens

roses, blackcurrants

grandchildren