Feb.2nd . . Imbolc/Candlemas

Origins:In Ireland, where green first appears after the long winter, Imbolc (or Oimelc) was a pastoralist's holiday celebrating the first new lambs, their nourishment and growth--with a thorough spring cleaning and rekindling of the hearth fires. Imbolc is especially sacred to Bridgid, the Goddess of healing, poetry, smithcraft, warmth, fire and the sun! Today, Imbolc, Candlemas or Groundhog Day is a welcome chance to call back the green of springtime in the darkest stretch of winter.

Some Ground Hog Day history

I wish I could remember where I found this wonderful dragonfly image on the web - alas it was months ago I added it to my much admired on the web file..

Imbolc (or Imbolg, Oimealg, Candlemas) is a fire festival marking the centerpoint of the dark half of the year, falling between Yule and the vernal equinox. The Maiden aspects of the Goddess are honored. This is a time of renewal and purification. Clean your home from top to bottom. Make a corn-husk doll and put it on your altar to symbolize the Maiden's purifying influence. Leave it there until next year, when the doll can be ceremoniously burned for good luck and a new one put in its place. Bless the seeds you will be planting in Spring. This is also a good time to make candles for ritual use. Light a fire or a candle, and let the warm fire sanctify your home.

In the Strega (Stregheria) tradition, this day marks the Festa di Lupercus (festival of the wolf-god, Lupercus). The young god is reaching maturity, gaining his power as a solar deity, warming the earth as he ascends into adulthood. At this time, there is a celebration of purity, of connecting to Lupercus' power to tap into the atavistic energies within. Young adults are initiated into the circle for the first time; teenagers become initiates themselves.

In the Santeria tradition, today is the Feast Day of Oya, the orisha of death and rebirth. Heavy winds, tornadoes, hurricanes, rainstorms, lightning, and cyclones are also associated with Oya, and she is said to be a fierce warrior. She is associated with the Catholic St. Theresa. In Haiti, Oya is known as Grande Brigitte, while she is called Yansa in Brazil.

In the Asatru tradition, this day is called Barri, and is a fertility festival celebrating the wooing of Frey the Maiden - a symbolic marriage of the God of Fertility with Mother Earth.

This year dawned gray and mild. The sun did not arrive till much later in the afternoon. This means "spring" will come early if one listens to Wiarton Willy and other celebrity Ground Hogs. The temperature today is +6 C and our world again is dripping. As it cools we make wonderful icicles.

Feb. 1st. 2005;

Just after one pm I took my peanut butter and lettuce filled pita to the back stoop and sat in the sunshine. Bright Grandfather Sun sparkling on the pure white snow - an almost cloudless postcard blue sky filled the heavens - no wind make a wonderful scenerio to sit and enjoy. The warmth made my heart zing - you could've sworn weak tones of March smells were in the wind. I watched the squirrels arguing over the latest orts on the compost pile - their winter banquet table throughout the winter. I noted the chickadees are almost through yet another feeder full of food.

When I finished my own munching; I leaned my head back against the wall jutting my chin upwards to catch every inth of warmth and closed my eyes - letting the sun light dance upon my red inner eyelids, my forehead and nose - my cheeks flushed with the excitement, my inner joy of sitting "outside" in a t-shirt on the 2nd. of February..

After bathing in these singular moments of pure pleasure; each washing over me with a specific degreeof titillation, my pleasure centres filled, my senses heightened - my left ear picked up on a robust drumming made by water dripping off the roof.. this steady heavy drop pattern took over from my delight of just having a sunny ray face dance.

The rhythm of the moment changed; soon my right ear tuned into a lighter toned duet playing on the otherside; two drops arguing over who was to dispurse the greater portion of the water flow - this lighter intermittant beat made the harmony working inbetween the steady beat of the main big droplet drum ..

I sat in the warmth enjoying this gifted trio till a gentle wind brushed against the bamboo wind chimes hidden within the big spruce by the walk to the pond, now in the distance this became another band - far in a distant land which had joined the group.. or perhaps it was beginning to answer the secret message being sent by the porch drip duo ..

The chickadees came back to my ears; as did the squirrels and the whole yard was in concert enjoying the warmth sun shine..

When the sound of a distant jet passed high over head I opened my eyes to watch its shiny belly pass quickly over head and thought momentarily of where it was off to..

Feeling dozy I closed my eyes once more thinking a short nap was in order.. but suddenly a huge dark cloud clouded my world and the warmth instantly disappeared along with spring thoughts and sitting outside for enjoyment.

Quickly I trundled myself back inside.

What a delicious tease Mother Nature can be - lulling me into such a dozy warm head space; then sending the equivalent of a cold shower to wake me up.. Such an easy mark I am for her temptations with my need for sunshine and warmth and freah air . . and . . and.

Tomorrow I will take great glee banging my pot as I walk with Brian about the loop; giving Gaia a much deserved alarm clock ringing.. "Time to stretch and yawn Gaia" I'll shout; knowing full well she'll just smile and then roll over and nap a bit longer . .

but the writing's on the wall - the suns rays told me today "spring" is closer to awakening than naught..

Bright blessings to all for Imbolc - Walk in Peace and Sunshine.

Sharon

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Half the interest of a garden is the constant exercise of the imagination. You are always living three, or indeed six, months hence. I believe that people entirely devoid of imagination never can be really good gardeners. To be content with the present, and not striving about the future, is fatal. - Alice Morse Earle, 1897