Samhain Thanksgiving Moon
| — | Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray |
| — | James Hillman |
| — | James Hillman |
| — | Confucius |
| — | Mark Twain |
| — | Mark Twain |
| — | Mark Twain |
| — | Kurt Vonnegut |
‘
Samhain Thanksgiving Moon
| — | Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray |
| — | James Hillman |
| — | James Hillman |
| — | Confucius |
| — | Mark Twain |
| — | Mark Twain |
| — | Mark Twain |
| — | Kurt Vonnegut |
‘
Samhain Thanksgiving Moon
Went outside this afternoon. Something I do less and less as the cold time deepens. The
dogs’ paths stand out now with fallen leaves on either side of bare ground. It’s possible to see to the far southern fence of our property through the woods, impossible during the growing season.
Checked the cardboard sleeve for the bees. It’s fallen down and I had to prop it up. I may staple it. I wanted to avoid that because thumping sounds inside the hive tend to activate defense on the part of the colony and I don’t want to wear a veil. But, I might do it anyhow.
The mulching, leaves, that I put down in the vegetable garden, partly as a weed suppressor and partly for soil nutrition, have blown off from the asparagus patch, the sun trap and the herb spiral. We have more leaves and tomorrow I’m going to remulch those areas while I put down the mulch over the newly planted bulbs. The soil has frozen so this is the time.
It’s also best to get it done before the snow falls and it looks like we may have snow next week. At least I hope so.
When that’s done, the outside garden work is over for the winter with one exception: pruning the fruit trees. We’re going to have Javier come in and do it since it’s a specialized skill and we’d like to get them on the right path.
This winter will find me outside, out back more than usual. At least that’s the plan. Pruning the forest, building up cut wood stores for future bonfires. Creating yet another beeyard. I have a new pair of gloves, a new chain and a new bar on the Jonsered, so I’m ready. I’ve got my felling and limbing axes, too, and I plan to cut down some trees the old-fashioned way. I’ll limb most of them with the limbing ax. Safer than using the chain saw.
Samhain Thanksgiving Moon
Watched movies and TV, ate lamb, lounged around with the dogs. That was Thanksgiving.
Today found me back at the Latin and ready to go. The first hour was golden. I was on and it flowed.
I broke for about an hour to work in the garage, clearing the way for the biggest part of the project, dismantling the dog feeding and sleeping stations lovingly and well built by Jon now many years ago. We have stuff stacked on them and some in them, so spots have to be found for all of that. There is plenty of room. After all, we have a three car garage and only one vehicle.
When I came back, the Latin aqueduct that had opened earlier, closed. Weird. I couldn’t make the words dance. So, I put up my papers and my commentaries and my grammar. This kind of work, much like writing, will not be pressed.
Soon it will be time for lunch and our inter-species nap. My eyelids are already drooping.
Samhain Thanksgiving Moon
The Thanksgiving Moon has become a crescent, my favorite shape of the moon. When it matches up with Venus or Jupiter in the evening sky, what a wonder. As the Thanksgiving Moon wanes, we are in the middle of Samhain, the cross-quarter holiday beginning on Summer’s End, October 31st, and running through the Winter Solstice. Samhain covers the first 8 weeks of the fallow time. Winter the next 8 weeks. At least on my sacred calendar.
Following the Great Wheel as it rolls through the sky, a human, mythic rendering of the earth’s orbit, helps me stay in touch with the seasonal nuances. Following the moon through its phases adds a wheel within the larger wheel, two eccentrics moving through the universe and around the sun together. This would, in itself, be enough for me.
The other holidays though, Deepavali, Easter, Boxing Day, 4th of July, the Eve of St. Agnes, the Posada, Christmas, Hungry Ghost, the various new year’s dates add spice, are the flavors of others sacred sight added to the earth tones of my own observances. And I love them, too.
We can experience this life as a series of holidays, one after the other. Delightful and evocative. Why not? Perhaps one year, maybe my 70th, I will decide is a holiyear and try to celebrate as many festivals as I can over the course of a year. Could be fun.