Category Archives: Great Wheel

Ah.

Samhain                                                 New (Thanksgiving) Moon

Finished.  Go now. The growing season has ended.  The last chores are complete:  bees gefscorked, cardboarded and moisture boarded. (not at all the same as water boarding), tulips planted.  Mulch laid down where it can be and the rest waits until the ground freezes.  Over the new bulbs for example.  That’s it. Every apple, leek, raspberry, tomato, beet, garlic, onion, carrot, ground cherry, herb and pepper has either been eaten or preserved.

The next big gardening moment is the arrival of the seed catalogs in January.  That will prompt a round of garden planning, getting ready for the 2014 garden. That’ll also be time to check on the bees, see how they’re doing.  Until then, hasta la vista, horticultura.

 

The Samhain Bonfire, a bit more.

Samhain                                                             Samhain Moon

Frank said as he left, “Casual gatherings.  Low key.  That’s what I like best.”  It was low key, but in its own surprising way, profound.

The bonfire stayed interesting for 3 hours plus, the last hour or so the result of the five four foot lengths of ironwood cut in the morning.  There will be a number more of those logs cut over the next few weeks as we prepare for the Winter Solstice bonfire on December 21st.

The calling of the ancestors to the circle worked.  When we finished, they stayed with us, entering our conversations, adding layers to the people gathered around the fire.  Our group of 7 grew by generations of Fairbanks and Charles’s and Wolfe’s and Perlich’s and Zike’s and Spitler’s.  Some of us called in our tribal ancestors from those days long ago before settlement of Europe and all of us gave a nod and a toast to the Tanzanian man whose y chromosome all the men share.  Mitochondrial Eve, too.  (Though I understand that picture has gotten more complicated.  But the idea is sound.  That woman and that man, far enough back to have entered all our DNA.)

Warren and Sheryl threw their names into the fire wrapped around logs from long ago cached wood for a barbecue.  When they did, sparks from the fire flew up toward the night sky.  Reminded me of Beowulf’s bier, where “heaven swallowed the smoke.”

More memories gather around this place.  It becomes richer with each event, especially with the crowd of ancients who filled it last night.  Some of their spirit will linger on, remembering us and being remembered.

 

 

Samhain Bonfire

Samhain                                                             Samhain Moon

The first annual Samhain bonfire has happened.  Warren and Cheryl, Frank, Anne, Pam, Lydia and Jason, and Dawn came at various points.  I lit the fire at 6:15 and it was down to coals when we came in just now at 9:45.

We gathered as friends, chatting.  Then the ritual for remembering ancestors opened up the circle a good bit as we learned more about each other, and each others families.  It was a good night, ending in some rain.  I’ll write more tomorrow and include a few pictures.

Looking Backwards

Fall                                                                            Samhain Moon

After a good morning with Ovid, I went out to humble myself with my chain saw.  As I’ve written here before, I’ve used chain saws since 1974, 39 years.  Long enough, you’d think, to learn not to put the chain on backwards, but I did just that this morning. When a chain saw blade is on backwards, it burns the wood, rather than cut it.  Took me a second try to figure this out.  Back to the bench.

Sure enough, the little pointy sharp things were away from the cut rather than toward it. This seems pretty basic, doesn’t it?  Well, it is.  After solving the puzzle, I turned the chain around, retensioned it and went back out.  Ah, like a knife through butter.

Cutting wood for our Samhain bonfire next Thursday.  This will officially end the growing season and as things look right now, we’ll have finished the remaining tasks in the garden by then.  We have flower bulbs to plant, garlic to plant and leeks to harvest.  With minor exceptions that’s the end of it until next spring.  Which, if the climate keeps on warming, may come soon after my birthday on Valentine’s day.  Or, as it did this year, sometime in June.  Hard to tell up here.

Around and Around and Around We Go

Fall                                                                       Samhain Moon

Interesting convergence.  In Ovid today I translated some verses about the silver age in which Jupiter created four seasons from summer, brief spring, winter and autumn.  After finishing this work, I went out and joined Kate, already at work in the garden.  Small pellets of snow fell.

(The Close of the Silver Age by Lucas Cranach the Elder, c. 1527-35)

We went into the orchard.  Kate pulled back the landscape cloth around the remaining trees while I broadcast the fertilizer, sprayed with biotill and then worked them both into the top three inches of soil.  While she replaced the landscape cloth, I shoveled soil, mostly sand, back into two large holes dug by our energetic girls, Vega and Rigel.

At one moment I looked up at a tall Norway pine and felt a kinship with Ovid and those farmers in long ago Latium.  We had similar things to do at similar times of year.

The word annum popped up from today’s translating.  You know, I imagine, that it translates as year, but you might not know that its primary meanings are: a circuitcircular courseperiodical return.  In one sense this is obvious of course, but that term we use frequently could orient us not to linear time, as we tend to use it, but to cyclical time.

When I say, I am 66 years old, we tend to think, oh.  Born 66 years from this date.  But that’s not what it really means.  It really means I have experienced a full year 66 times.  The year itself, if we’re true to its Latin roots, is not a one after the other marker of chronos, but a complete set, 4 seasons here in the temperate latitudes, finished and done with each winter, begun anew each spring.  Or whenever you want to break beginning and ending.

We then start over again.  Another year as we often say.  Yes, just so.  Another year.  This time in the next year I’ll be fertilizing the orchard.  As I have this year.  So that moment of apocalypse when the earth becomes changed and brand new?  Spring.  When the earth becomes desolate and barren?  Late fall.  Happened before, will happen again.  Amen.

 

Michaelmas

Fall                                                                           Harvest Moon

Michaelmas is here, the springtime of the soul.  This is a new entry for the Great Wheel series and begins time with the four quarter days of the British old calendar (see information from Historic UK below*).

(delacroix eugene  st. michael defeats the devil)

 

These quarter day are close to the equinox and solstice days, following the actual occurrence by a few days and having the advantage of a fixed date on the calendar for festivals and other events rather than relying on variable astronomical conditions.

Our Supreme Court begins its new term on October 1st and the government fiscal calendar restarts then, too, a shadow of this tradition well in place at the time of the American Revolution.  If you read books that relate matters of witchcraft, they will sometimes refer to these quarter days and/or the Catholic holidays for the cross-quarter days.  That is, Lughnasa, August 1, for example, was Lamas, a mass for the first loaves of bread made from the new harvest.

I love the imagery recounted below about Lucifer expelled from heaven and landing on a blackberry bush.  Of course, the implication is that it was the Archangel Michael who booted him out.

By now, a full week after the fall equinox or Mabon, there are already 21 more minutes of darkness than light.

(raphael-st-michael-and-the-dragon)

*”There are traditionally four “quarter days” in a year (Lady Day (25th March), Midsummer (24th June), Michaelmas (29th September) and Christmas (25th December)). They are spaced three months apart, on religious festivals, usually close to the solstices or equinoxes. They were the four dates on which servants were hired, rents due or leases begun. It used to be said that harvest had to be completed by Michaelmas, almost like the marking of the end of the productive season and the beginning of the new cycle of farming. It was the time at which new servants were hired or land was exchanged and debts were paid. This is how it came to be for Michaelmas to be the time for electing magistrates and also the beginning of legal and university terms.”

“St Michael is one of the principal angelic warriors, protector against the dark of the night and the Archangel who fought against Satan and his evil angels. As Michaelmas is the time that the darker nights and colder days begin – the edge into winter – the celebration of Michaelmas is associated with encouraging protection during these dark months. It was believed that negative forces were stronger in darkness and so families would require stronger defences during the later months of the year.”

“In British folklore, Old Michaelmas Day, 10th October, is the last day that blackberries should be picked. It is said that on this day, when Lucifer was expelled from Heaven, he fell from the skies, straight onto a blackberry bush. He then cursed the fruit, scorched them with his fiery breath, spat and stamped on them and made them unfit for consumption! And so the Irish proverb goes:

“On Michaelmas Day the devil puts his foot on blackberries”.  Historic UK

Nice Day For A Walk

Fall                                                                         Harvest Moon

A guy trudged along the same trail I was on, dressed in full camo but with the jacket open and t-shirt spread wide by a belly yearning to be free. “Nice day for a walk,” he said.  “Yeah.”  He was a bow-hunter with six yellow feathered arrows and a compound bow.  When I got back to the parking lot, I saw his truck with a large sticker, Life Begins At Full Draw.  A bow hunter with his bow-string fully extended.  He had another large sticker, “Born to Fish, Forced to Work.”

A bit further along a Hmong man in blaze orange vest with a rifle slung on right shoulder.  “Hi.”  “Hi.”  Only a moment before meeting the bow hunter I had decided to turn back.  I had no orange vest and wanted to be safe.

When I drove up here, only 3 maybe 4 miles from home, I’d discovered that this new state owned land was a conservation area, not a scientific and natural area as I had remembered.  The difference is that you can ride snowmobiles at Cedar Creek Conservation Area.  You can hunt.  You can also hike of course, but…

Armed with my smart phone I looked up Minnesota hunting seasons and found that it was bow season for deer and hunting for small animals and certain birds.  Didn’t seem I’d be confused for any of these since bow hunters have to be fairly close and have a good sight line, but out of, as the politicians say, “an abundance of caution,” I had begun my exit.

It was a spectacular day.  64 degrees.  Clear skies.  A light breeze.  Just right.  As often happens in northern Anoka county, it felt like up north with woods and meadows.  Imagining myself on a trail outside of Ely was easy.

Here are a few things I saw:

IMAG0966

IMAG0978IMAG0984IMAG0989

IMAG0971

Mabon. Fall Equinox. 2013

Fall                                                                  Harvest Moon

 

Yes, today we move beyond the first harvest festivals, the fairs and markets of August, into the period most folks associate with the harvest, the time when farmers all over the Midwest are in their fields with combines and corn pickers, gathering in food from one of the largest areas of food production in the entire world.  And, yes, we can certainly agree that the form of this agriculture is not sustainable and further that the amount of the corn crop turned toward corn syrup or ethanol makes no sense (and it doesn’t), but those of us who grew up here and continue to live here feel a certain synchrony with the land at this time.

2010 10 04_0351

As I’ve said here for the last six weeks, at the garden level, most of the  harvest is already done, but the big cash crops like wheat, corn and soybeans aren’t ready until late September or early October.  This is the time, in the plains states, when the huge custom combine companies will sweep the fields of wheat.  It is also the time when the corn pickers and soy bean harvesters enter the fields.  These crops are the chief cash crops in Minnesota.  So, it’s the harvest moon that hangs over this work, which often goes into the night, not over the warmer nights of August.

 

The harvest moon is the full moon nearest to the fall equinox.  The moon today is 90% full and waning and today is the autumnal equinox or what neo-pagans call Mabon.  The aspect of the equinox that speaks most deeply to me is the transition I mentioned yesterday from a day dominated by light toward a day dominated by dark.  This process now tips over in favor of the dark, though today is, roughly, a day when the two balance, 12 hours for each.

 

The Crone, Ian Harriot

But there are other ways of marking Mabon.  The Wiccans celebrate Mabon as the transition from Mother to Crone for the Goddess and the preparation for the death of the God.  You may recall from earlier writing about the Third Phase that the Wiccans mark the year into thirds:  Maiden-Mother-Crone.  So we now enter the seasonal equivalent of the Third Phase, the harvest either full in or almost so and a time of enjoying the fruits of the harvest, of resting, of concentrating arrives.

 

 

(Hades and Persephone in the underworld Seated on A Throne in the form of an Eagle’s head with Cerebus before Them.  Artwork Location  Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris, France)

An ancient Greek myth, the story of Demeter and Persephone, explains this seasonal turn, too.  This is the time when Persephone pays for having eaten the pomegranate seeds while in the underworld.  She returns to live with her husband Hades and reign as his queen.  Her mother, the goddess of grain, of the harvest and fertility, goes into mourning as her daughter disappears.  Plant life shrivels as she withdraws from it, only reviving when Persephone returns in the Spring and with her Demeter’s joy.

Wholeness

Lughnasa                                                                  Harvest Moon

Mabon eve.  The night before the fall equinox.  Tomorrow the light loses its struggle to own more than half of the day, a gain achieved back at the Summer Solstice in June.  From this point on the light diminishes and the darkness increases to its zenith at the Winter Solstice.

Been meaning to report on an interesting feeling I had at the Woolly meeting on Monday night.  I took two pies Kate had baked:  ground cherry and raspberry, both of fruit from our garden.  I also took a box of honey from our  hive, Artemis Honey with the label made by Mark Odegard.

When I left, after having sold 18 pounds of honey, I had a feeling of wholeness, that’s the best way I can describe it.  I had worked all season on the garden, the orchard and with the bees and somehow that evening I felt one with it all.

When I told Kate how I felt, I said it felt like something private was made public, that those two worlds knit together in one moment.  She said she got a similar feeling when she took food for a group, as she did so often for work and as she does now for her sewing days.

It was a good feeling, however understood.