Hearth and Home

While trick or treaters with their sing song voices roam your streets, struggling under the burden of bags groaning with sugary abundance and pagans and witches alike watch the face of the Goddess become Crone, we here in the Southern lands will dance joyous and unashamed around phallic poles wrapped in brightly coloured ribbons, celebrating the regeneration of life with the return of the sun.

Auhh summer, It didn’t seem that long ago that I fought a battle to somehow try to adapt to a turning wheel that knew only, dry and drier and hot and hotter. Everywhere I looked the land was burnt bare, trees stood parched in hot sands, sunburnt tourists struggled on city streets with sandals firmly adhered to the road by melting bitumen.
The knowledge may have been deep within me, yet I felt momentarily panicked. Where would my grasp of endings and new beginnings come from, when I watched a chilli bush, flick off any thought of rest with a wave of a defiant and fully glad branch, bursting forth yet another bunch of fiery fruit in the middle of winter. Although the acclimatized locals wore jackets and scarves, I longed for the sight of trees shivering in their nakedness, while I was tucked up safely in front of a toasty fire and the Dark Mother of winter rattled at my windows.

Oh such joy when we moved back across the country to the ‘cooler side’ – A green and grassy peninsula beckoned, tucked safely between two beautiful bays far from the siren song of the city. The seasons here each follow the other, perfectly orchestrated and in time.  I admit to feeling a little guilt surrounding my need for wheel turning order, when so many others have no choice but to deal with light or dark, wet or dry or any manner of seasonal subtleties, rather than the brass band entrance my inner self feels the need to attune too.

This year I have delighted in the miracle of change. Spending hours watching leaves flutter to the ground, forming a cascade of autumn glory across my yard. Cool winds bought thoughts of longer nights and family meals around a wooden table. Nothing gives me more pleasure than seasonal food, and during winter I refuse to buy out of season fruit and vegetables forced onto shop shelves by demanding and unknowing consumers. My joy comes from foraging through baskets laden with winter abundance, enjoying the sweet loamy aroma that comes from vegetables grown underground and whose smell holds all the secrets of the earth.

But the wheel will turn and as the face of the Goddess again changes, new life is being formed all around me. Sadly, I will say goodbye to my beloved winter and the dark secrets she brings. Throwing open my windows and doors I shall welcome those balmy, sun drenched days anew. The faces of the Maiden will be seen in buds and blossoms, her song will be heard on the ocean breeze. I shall dance with the horned God, our beat the rhythm of the land, rejoicing in this time of rebirth and regeneration. My heart will give thanks for the winter I yearned for. A spirit renewed, the wheel will be followed forward to another fertile and another abundant summer.

May blessings and abundance find their way to your door.