Twenty-Four Knots on the Wheel

We are currently sitting half way between Christmas and Twelfth Night and Epiphany. In musing about this, some patterns began to emerge.

Epiphany is of course Twelfth Day, and the Eve of Epiphany Twelfth Night. Twelfth days from Christmas, or in the older calendar, from the Solstice.

Traditionally, Jan 6 is both the day Christ was presented in the temple (hence the name Epiphany) and the day the Kings arrived, or, more accurately, they arrived the night before but were present during the day as well. Interestingly, the presentation of Christ is also connected to Candlemas, which is 40 days from Christmas, and Epiphany is also called the Day of Lights, with direct relation to the candles of Candlemas. The 40 day times in traditional usage are important, Ash Wednesday 40 days before Easter, etc. The lore of Bride’s Day and Candlemas bring interesting light (no pun intended) to Twelfth Night/Day, Epiphany, and Three Kings Day. But that’s a side point.

In the Eastern Church, Epiphany is the baptism of Christ, the descent (fall?) of the Holy Spirit upon him, his manifestation as the Son of God. This is very much an initiatory event, the baptism a ritual death, the spirit descending much like the Fall of the Watchers and the settling on him as a dove much like later stories of witches and familiar spirits. This is followed, of course, by 40 days in the Wilderness/Wasteland to be tempted, an ordeal, fasting, harsh conditions. The type of thing you return dead, mad, or a poet, in the British Isles. 40 days places it on my birthday, February 15, which is Lupercalia in Rome, the Wolf Festival, a festival to Faunus/Pan, for the protection of flocks. A sacrifice was made in the cave where legend said Romulus and Remus were suckled by the wolf. The rites were said to have been brought from Arcadia (all things tie back to Acadia), the homeland of Pan. Twelve days before the Lupercalia is of course Candlemas.

That’s of course using the Gregorian placement of January 6. In the Eastern Church, they use the Julian, so it lands on our January 19, and 40 days is February 28 in the Gregorian. This places Christmas, of course, on the 6th or 7th of January, so our Epiphany is essentially their Christmas. The shift obscures, just as the shift from the actual Solstice to what is December 25, where Christmas is celebrated and things are measured.

The 25 of December being Solstice places the 20th or 21st depending on the year as Christmas, so January 1st of 2nd as Epiphany. New Years becomes Epiphany, New Years Eve Twelfth Night. Lupercalia becomes February 10th in our calendar, Candlemas January 29th.

But in effect, the Solstice is the important date, Epiphany 12 days hence, then Bride’s Day with Lupercalia 12 days hence, then the Equinox with Easter 12 days hence, then Beltaine, with Pentacost 12 days hence, then the Summer Solstice with the Fourth of July 12 days hence, then Lugh’s Day, with Assumption 12 days hence, then the Equinox, with Michaelmas 12 days hence, the Samhain with Feroniae 12 days hence. Approximately. Kalends and Ides.

But, of course, that’s only eight. Not the ten months of the early Roman Calendar or the later twelve months that became our own.

The 12 days of course count from the day after, to the Eve. This means approximately 14 days counting the actual days, two weeks, approximately half a moon. 28 days, you get 13 moons, 364 days. A year and a day making 365. 28 and 12 is of course 40 days, so if you take a complete moon cycle from each of the major dates, then 12 before the secondary dates, you get 40 days. So, Solstice + 12, 13 is Epiphany, Epiphany + 28 is Candlemas. Candlemas + 12, 13 is Lupercalia, and so forth. Which means 2 weeks, then 4 weeks, 2 weeks, then 4 weeks, and so forth. 6 weeks, eight majors, you have 48 weeks, 336 days. Which of course is four weeks short, one moon. But this is because it isn’t exactly what I implied.

If you add one week before each of the Solstices and Equinoxes, between them and the last marked Ides, you hit real close to the right dates, and get 364 days, 52 weeks, 13 moons.

Going backwards around, 12 days before Christmas (Solstice) is Lucie, my wife’s birthday. 12 days before the Autumn Equinox, Holyrood. 12 days before the Nativity of John the Baptist (Solstice) is Whitsun. And 12 days before the Spring Equinox, Lent. The four Ember Days. 40 days before those, Samhain, Lugh’s Day, Beltain, and Bride’s Day. Approximately, anyway.

12 days before Bride’s Day, Beltain, Samhain, Lugh’s Day, and Samhain are approximately cusps of Capricorn/Aquarius, Aries/Taurus, Cancer/Leo, and Libra/Scorpio. These are one week after the Ides, and while there are rustic Roman festivals celebrated on these, they are more obscure and doing lend much.

So, Solstice, plus two weeks, Epiphany, plus two weeks, Cusp, plus two weeks, Candlemas, plus two weeks, Lupercalia, plus one week, Lent, plus two weeks, Equinox, plus two weeks, Easter, plus two weeks, Cusp, plus two weeks, Beltain, plus two weeks, Pentecost, plus one week, Whitsun, plus two weeks, Solstice, plus two weeks, the Fourth of July, plus two weeks, Cusp, plus two weeks, Lugh’s Day, plus two weeks, Assumption, plus one week, Holyrood, plus two weeks, Equinox, plus two weeks, Michaelmas, plus two weeks, Cusp, plus two weeks, Samhain, plus two weeks, Feroniae, plus one week, Lucie, plus two weeks, Solstice.

Eight days (Solstices, Equinoxes, Bride’s, Beltain, Lugh’s, and Samhain), with a day twelve days before and twelve after. 24 days.

There are 24 knots in my year, not modeled after these, but it ties in nicely to mine, which are the Bright and Dark Moons closest to each 15 degrees of the Zodiac, the custs and the midpoints. But the above is close enough to these that I think I need to work through the these and see how they relate to my own cycle, and what lore will come out of it.

FFF,
~Muninn’s Kiss

 

Time of the Lost

We now enter the Time of the Lost, and the Time of the Found. The Keeper of the Lost rises, rises to Regency, as the Keeper of Secrets falls. The Time of the Lost has come. And the Time of the Found.

The Lost aren’t those that don’t know salvation, or those who don’t know their way. For there are those who know the way but are lost, and those that can’t see the way who are found. No, the Lost are not these. The Lost are many, who can count? Only their Keeper.

The Lost are those who don’t see the way, not because they are blind or unable, but because they don’t choose to.

The Lost are those that have forgotten. Forgotten the way, forgotten they know the way, have no vision.

The Lost are those who are forgotten, who no one sees, no one remembers. The dead that are not remembered, the living who are ignored or not seen.

“Where there is no vision, the people perish…” ~Proverbs 29:18a*

The Lost are those who wander, crossing the worlds while not knowing it, wandering forevermore, unaware.

The Lost are those living on the streets, unnoticed by passersby, or ignored, avoided by them.

The Lost are those spending every night in the bar, drinking to forget.

The Lost are those working three jobs or tons of overtime to pay bills for things they have no time to enjoy, not living, just surviving, though they appear to be successful.

The Lost are those living alone in a house or apartment, afraid to go outside for reasons only they know.

The Lost are those who die alone, no one knowing until the smell draws attention.

The Lost are those living in nursing homes, with no family to visit, or no family that does visit.

The Lost are those who die on the streets, with a body tag saying John or Jane Doe, no one morning, no one claiming the body, no one naming the name.

The Lost are those who are forgotten shortly after their death, their families and friends going about their business, their stories and life ending with their death, never to be recalled again.

The Lost are those searching but not looking, wanting to find a path, but afraid they actually will. Running from their past, afraid of their future, they move aimlessly, lost but not sure they want to be found.

The Lost are those who make the logical choices in life, the ones that will bring what seems like success, stability, security, but ignore the calling they hear, not taking the risk to follow desire, necessity, or destiny.

The Lost are those who think themselves in full control of their destiny, believe they see the path before them clearly, all laid bare, but are really only seeing swirling mists, not even their own feet, inventing pictures in the mist thinking them visions, when all they are are wistful dreams.

The Time of the Lost has come. And the Time of the Found.

The Keeper of the Lost is also the Keeper of the Found. Just as the Builder of Storms is also the Builder of Stillness, and the Bringer of Tears brings both tears of sorrow and joy.

What was Lost shall be found, but what was Found can be lost. Fortunes change, conditions change, there is sudden gain and there is sudden lose. Winter’s Mistress is harsh and unforgiving, the Left and the Right Hand of Fate. Nothing is certain, nothing stays the same.

Look.

Listen

Observe.

What do you see? What do you hear? What do you perceive?

The line it is drawn
And the curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast

As the present now
Will later be past
The order is
Rapidly fadin’

And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin’
~The Times They Are A-Changin’ by Bob Dylan

The Lost can be Found, the Found can be Lost. We sit in the Abyss, the year has ended, but the new year doesn’t begin. Waiting. A time when anything can happen, and likely will.

The Wild Hunt rides.

Can you hear it? Can you feel it?

Do you here winds blowing between worlds?

Listen.

Look.

Observe.

Change. Sudden and unexpected.

What was Lost shall be found, but what was Found can be lost.

We now enter the Time of the Lost, and the Time of the Found. The Keeper of the Lost rises, rises to Regency, as the Keeper of Secrets falls. The Time of the Lost has come. And the Time of the Found.

Can you feel it?

FFF,
~Muninn’s Kiss
*For context, the entire verse is “Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth the law, happy is he.”

 

Liminal Equinoxes

With the Spring (or Vernal) Equinox just past, I’ve heard a lot of, it’s too cold or snowy for it to be spring. I had some thoughts about that while driving back to Colorado in a snow storm today.

Picture the year as a circle.

Place the Winter and Summer Solstices at the top and bottom, doesn’t matter which is which, just whichever makes most sense to you. Now draw a line halving the circle, horizontally. Think of half with Winter as the Winter Half, and the part with Summer as the Summer Half. The Solstices are very clearly one season or the other, the further you go around the circle to that middle line, the less clear. Now make a mark half way along the circle between each Solstice and the centre line. These points are Bride’s Day, Beltaine, Lugh’s Day, and Samhaine (or whatever order makes most sense to you). Now, the top quarter of the circle, the arc from a point marked to a Solstice then to the other mark near that Solstice, and same on the bottom quarter, those two arcs are clearly Summer and Winter. You may get some odd weather that doesn’t fit, but those two sections are fairly clearly set (at least if you’re far enough from the equator, especially outside the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn). They are stable, static, passive, unchanging.

But the arcs between the points marked crossing the centre line, these are liminal, changing, dynamic, betwixt and between. These are of course the Spring and Fall, Vernus and Autumn, arcs, with the centre line marking the equinoxes. But these seasons represent the transition between Winter and Summer, Summer and Winter. They are liminal. They are neither Winter nor Summer. And because they are liminal, winter characteristics can stretch later some years and earlier others, and the same for summer characteristics. So the Spring Equinox isn’t “spring” because of distinct spring characteristics, but because it’s the midpoint of the transition from Winter to Summer, and the Autumn Equinox isn’t “autumn” because of distinct autumn characteristics, but because it’s the midpoint of the transition from Summer to Winter.

You can see this also by putting a day on the same circle.

Place Midnight where Winter is, and Noon where Summer is. Midnight is clearly night, for even at the most extreme latitudes, it is the lowest point of the sun in summer and darkest sky in winter, and closer to the equator, clearly mid-night. Noon is clearly day, for even at the most extreme latitudes, it is the highest point of the sun in summer and lightest sky in winter, and closer to the equator, clearly mid-day, especially south of the Arctic Circle and north of the Antarctic Circle.

Unlike midnight and noon which are obvious and static, Dusk and Dawn are dynamic and changing, both moving closer to midnight in summer and closer to noon in winter. At lease outside the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn, inside they are more static. But regardless of latitude, Dusk and Dawn aren’t set points like Midnight and Noon. They are transitional, a change from clear day to clear night. Twilight. Neither day nor night, neither night nor day. Liminal. They aren’t the point at which the sun appears or vanishes, they are the transition from the point the sky begins to lighten to the time the sun is fully visible, and from when the sun begins to set to when the sky is fully dark. Just like Spring and Autumn, they aren’t distinct, exact points of conditions, they are a liminal borderland between two exact conditions.

This is also true of course if you look at the directions.

North and south run to exact points, the axis of the world, whereas east and west keep going forever, overlapping. You can go far enough north that every direction is south, and far enough south that everything is north. But no matter how far east you go, you’re still facing east, west is still at your back, north is on you left, and south on your right. No matter how far west you go, you’re still facing west, east is still at your back, south is on your left, and north is on your right. East and West are liminal directions, relative directions. Like Dawn and Dusk. Like Spring and Fall. North and South are absolute directions. Like Midnight and Noon. Like Winter and Summer.

FFF,
~Muninn’s Kiss

 

The Fire Festivals: Stellar movements and the cross-quarter days

As we’re now in the time of the year of the Bride, having just passed her day and Candlemas, it’s interesting to take a look at the days modern pagans and many witches consider holy days, especially the cross-quarters, Samhain, Bride’s Day, Beltaine, and Lugh’s Day. Much is made of Samhain and Beltaine, less of Bride’s Day and Lugh’s Day, as many modern pagans aren’t quite sure what to do with them.

I’d like to go back to a discussion I started in my Year in Review post, about the timing of these four days. These days fall roughly half way between the solstices and equinoxes, and while those are fairly easily observed, based on the length of the day and year, the cross quarters are not as easy, as they don’t fall at a time the solar cycle would lend easy measurements, and the lunar cycles don’t line up right to designate them every year. Yet they seem to have been more important among what care called Celtic people than the ones easily measured by the sun. This would imply something significant marking them, not a measuring from the solar points. So, if not solar, and not lunar, yet marked by a sign, where do we look?

The answer lies in part of my discussion in the fore-mentioned post. “Aldebaran is the brightest star in Taurus, the Bull, and becomes visible in the Northern Hemisphere around Samhain, sinking again around Beltaine, being highest around Bride’s Day.” “Regulus is the brightest star in Leo, the Lion, and becomes most visible in the Northern Hemisphere around Bride’s Day, and disappears around Lugh’s Day, being highest around Beltaine.”

So, Samhain comes when Aldebaran and Taurus rise. Bride’s Day comes when Regulus and Leo rise, and Aldebaran and Taurus are at their height. Beltaine comes when Regulus and Leo hits it’s height, and Aldebaran and Taurus sink. Lugh’s Day comes when Regulus and Leo sink.

We can look further. Just before Leo is at it’s height and Taurus is sinking, Scorpio is rising. Antares is the bright star, and can be considered as opposite Taurus’ Aldebaran. It doesn’t rise as high as the others, but is significant. It sets after Lugh’s Day. When Leo is sinking around Lugh’s Day, Aquarius and its neighbours are rising. Though not in Aquarius, the brightest star in the area of the sky is Fomalhaut, in Piscis Austrinus.

Not exact, but we see the rise of Aldebaran and Taurus at Samhain, the rise of Regulus and Leo at Bride’s Day, the rise of Antares and Scorpio at Beltaine, and the rise of Fomalhaut and Aquarius at Lugh’s Day. It’s important to note that these four stars were considered the Royal Stars in Persia, the Watchers, Regulus watching in the North, Aldebaran in the East, Fomalhaut in the South, and Antares in the West.

These four holy days are seen as sun festivals, but they seem to be more stellar than solar. Unless, of course, their celebration started far enough back to show a large enough shift to account for this. The Zodiac, and these four star with them, move completely around in relation to earth every 25,920 years or so, the Platonic Year, or the Great Year. Considering the current twelve signs, this means it shifts a complete constellation about every 2200 years give or take 100. It wobbles in relation to the stars over this, which accounts for the Antares and Fomalhaut anomalies from the four holy days. As the wobble occurs, some constellations are lower, so rising and sinking points change.

The cycle moves backwards from the annual seasons, so the Spring Equinox occurs a bit earlier in the zodiac each year, and every 2000 years or so, a full sign. It currently sits in Pisces, almost to Aquarius when compared to the stars (at the border between Ares and Pisces in traditional Western astrology, for most western Astrology cares about the position of the sun in the sky rather than the exact location against the stars). This is where the discussion of the Age of Pisces and the upcoming Age of Aquarius come from.

The Winter Solstice, which is more interesting for this discussion, occurs in Sagittarius currently, not on the border of Sagittarius and Capricorn. Over time, it will move further, into Scorpio. This means that Antares is moving toward the Winter Solstice, and was once at the Autumn Equinox. And before that at Lugh’s Day, and before that as the Summer Solstice. In the last 25,920 days, it’s moved full circle back through the year.

This begs the question, when these four days were first observed but the people who would become called as Celts, where were these four stars, and what part of the year did they celebrate? Samhain was a time of death and ending, Beltaine a time of birth and beginning. It seems likely Samhain started out as a Winter Solstice celebration and Beltaine as a Summer Solstice celebration, just as Midsummer and Yule were celebrated by the Germanic people. If this is so, the Germanic people marked it solarly, so it stayed at the Solstice, but the Celtic people marked it stellarly, causing a shift. This would imply a beginning of the celebration around 23,000 years ago, or 48,000, or so on.

It also points to a stellar basis for religious and ritual use, something many archaeological investigations of things like the stone circles in the British Isles, the recent find up in the Orkneys, and other sites are also pointing to.

FFF,
~Muninn’s Kiss

 

2012 Myth Cycle: Year in Review

יד וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים יְהִי מְאֹרֹת בִּרְקִיעַ הַשָּׁמַיִם לְהַבְדִּיל בֵּין הַיּוֹם וּבֵין הַלָּיְלָה וְהָיוּ לְאֹתֹת וּלְמוֹעֲדִים וּלְיָמִים וְשָׁנִים
טו וְהָיוּ לִמְאוֹרֹת בִּרְקִיעַ הַשָּׁמַיִם לְהָאִיר עַל-הָאָרֶץ וַיְהִי-כֵן

14 And God said: ‘Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days and years; 15 and let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth.’

And it was so. The year passes, day by day, week by week, month by month. Tides come in, tides go out. Moons move to full and back to dark. Time passes.

According to the current Gregorian Calendar, today is the first of the year, but as I’ve said many times, different cultures each have their own new year. This year, the Chinese New Year lands on February 10th. Depending on the purpose, September 4th, January 25th, or March 12th can be considered the beginning of the new year this coming year in the Jewish calendar. In the Islamic calendar, it begins November 3rd this coming year. Some cultures begin the year on Samhain or Beltaine, or on one of the Equinoxes or Solstices. We celebrate it on January 1st in most of the Western world because of the use of the Gregorian calendar which is based on the Julian calendar, since January 1st, the Feast of Janus, was the Roman new year. It should be noted that January 1st is the 8th day from Christmas (including both end points), so is seen as the day Christ was circumcised based on a December 25th birth. However, Christmas was likely originally a Solstice celebration, December 25th being the original date given to the Solstice, before shifting moved it roughly four days back. This would make January 1st, the Feast of Janus, the eighth day from the Solstice, so properly December 28th or 29th depending on the day. We still celebrate the Feast of Janus, if you look carefully. Janus is the two faced god, one looking back, the other forward, just as we do, celebrating what happened in the last year and making resolutions for the coming year.

Much of the pagan and occult community celebrates the eight (or nine) Knots of the year, the eight Fire Festivals, or whatever name each uses, sometimes poetically called the Wheel of the Year. These are Bride’s Day/Candlemas/Imbolc, the Spring Equinox/Ostara, May Day/Roodmas/Beltane, the Summer Solstice/Midsummer/Feast of John the Baptist/Litha, Lugh’s Day/Lughnasadh/Lammas/August Eve/Feast of Augustus/Feast of Sofia, the Autumn Equinox/Michaelmas/Mabon, All Saint’s Day/All Soul’s Day/Hallowe’en/Samhain, and the Winter Solstice/Midwinter/Chistmas/Yule.

I don’t always celebrate these, but I note their passing, or, more accurately, the passing of their Tides, as these are the high tides of energy cycles throughout the year. The Tides don’t always fall on those specific days. This is because those days are pinpointed by the solar year, the solstices being the most northern and most southern movements of the sun through the sky or the shortest and longest day or night, the equinoxes being the days when day and night are equal in length, and the other four the midpoints between. But the Tides are not solar, and they aren’t lunar. If they were solar, the cross-quarters (Bride’s Day, Beltaine, Lugh’s Day, and Samhain) would have no significance. If they were lunar, there would be thirteen, not eight. Even the months, despite the origin of the name, aren’t lunar in Western calendars, for there are roughly 13 moons, but only twelve months, and originally only ten (you’ll note the names January, Janus, February, Februum, March, Mars, April, Aperire, May, Maia, June, Juno, September, Seven, October, Eight, November, Nine, and December, Ten). Neither twelve nor ten fit the moons. But twelve does fit the Zodiac, which is of course stellar, not solar or lunar. Libra was added late, with 11 constellations in the Zodiac before that, maybe ten previously at some point. You’ll also notice that the moon occults Aldebaran around the Autumn Equinox in the Southern Hemisphere. Aldebaran is the brightest star in Taurus, the Bull, and becomes visible in the Northern Hemisphere around Samhain, sinking again around Beltaine, being highest around Bride’s Day. Regulus is often occulted by the moon around the Summer Solstice. Regulus is the brightest star in Leo, the Lion, and becomes most visible in the Northern Hemisphere around Bride’s Day, and disappears around Lugh’s Day, being highest around Beltaine. Antares can be occulted by the moon during any month. It is the brightest star in Scorpio, the Scorpion, and is roughly visible from around the spring equinox to the autumn equinox, highest closest to the summer solstice. There are other stars that point to various other of the eight Knots, but I’ll leave that for a later post.

I note the passing of the Tides, and often how the solar cycles, lunar cycles, and stellar cycles land, sometimes celebrating or doing a working, sometimes just noting them. But in noting them, I often find poetry and myth can capture the essence of the Tides.

The following are my ritual poems for the major Tides over the last year, from Samhain to Samhain, showing a cycle I saw grow up throughout the year. Each poem fed the next and the next, creating a myth cycle. The dates given are the most common modern dates, or there about. Each actually spreads over three days, but the Tides of each grow before that date and fade after, and reach High Tide at different times in different places, and are also influenced by the shorter Tides of the moon and longer Tides of the sun, so the dates given are for reference only, to make the cycle more clear. The names of the Tides given are not necessarily the names everyone uses, but the ones I most commonly use in my practice.

(The Year Draws Nigh – Samhain 10/31/2011)

As darkness fall, the veil thin,
The year is drawing nigh.
Shadows lengthen, gather strength,
The year is drawing nigh.
The dead they stir, and look around,
The year is drawing nigh.
Tonight they walk, tonight they dine,
The year is drawing nigh.
The sinks down, she’s dying now,
The year is drawing nigh.
Beneath the hills, the dying sun,
The year is drawing nigh.
Hollow hills, they open wide,
The year is drawing nigh.
Faerie folk, the mighty dead,
The year is drawing nigh.
Samhain’s fires, burning bright,
The year is drawing nigh.
To dance around, in death’s embrace,
The year is drawing nigh.
Ancestors dead, some long gone,
The year is drawing nigh.
We tip a glass, we place a plate,
The year is drawing nigh.
Death stands up, tonight he reigns,
The year is drawing nigh.
In darkness strong, the dying year,
The year is drawing nigh.
The revelers grow deathly quiet,
The year is drawing nigh.
All knees bend and all tongue stilled,
The year is drawing nigh.
For Death takes all and all will come,
The year is drawing nigh.
The Gates of Death, they open wide,
The year is drawing nigh.
His face you meet, at Death’s great doors,
The year is drawing nigh.
A friend, a judge, a lover, a blade,
The year is drawing nigh.
His embrace is sweet, but deathly cold,
The year is drawing nigh.
In love he strips you, bone from bone,
The year is drawing nigh.
Nothing left, you pass beyond,
The year is drawing nigh.
The veil it parts, the doors swing wide,
The year is drawing nigh.
Your last strong breath, last orgasm,
The year is drawing nigh.
And through you go, to what’s beyond,
The year is drawing nigh.
But Death’s great doors and Life’s fair doors,
The year is drawing nigh.
What’s dead and gone, will be reborn,
The year is drawing nigh.
A new breath breathed, a new day dawns,
The year is drawing nigh.
Death to Life, he takes your hand,
The year is drawing nigh.
All is gone, but all in new,
The year is drawing nigh.
The new dawn’s sun, in the east,
The year is drawing nigh.
The cold it flees, the shadows hide,
The year is drawing nigh.
Dark Samhain’s night to new year’s light,
The year is drawing nigh.
What was dead has come again.

(The Throne of Bone – Winter Solstice 12/22/2011)

Darkest night and shortest day,
Shadows reign and darkness calls,
The shadowy figure of Death stands by,
Patiently waiting for all to fall.

Each child born will surly die,
None is spared and all know why,
At Death’s bone throne each one will come,
He needn’t search for all will come.

The sun sets earlier for half the year,
Night grows longer, shadows strive,
The year he ages as do all,
Growing weaker, growing frail.

The time draws near when he will die,
The year we’ve loved so hard to watch,
The mourners all do gather round,
For letting go is the hardest task.

With the sun, the year does set,
Sinking down into the grave,
Like each man, he bows his knee,
And presents himself at the throne of bone.

In his birth we knew he’d die,
For every beginning contains the end,
We watched him grow like a new born lamb,
We watch him die at the Slaughterer’s hand.

Every beginning has it’s end,
But every ending is born again,
With Dawn’s first light like the Morning Star,
The new year rises and live once more.

Fresh and hopeful, full of life,
The year reborn begins his flight,
We watch him stretch and try his wings,
We glory that he lives again.

Forgetting the grief and sorrow past,
We pretend he didn’t see Death’s own face,
With the new year, we fly away,
Trying to forget our own mortality.

(The Call – Bride’s Day 2/1/2012)

As the metal hare settles to sleep,
The water dragon stretches and stirs,
The world serpent around the world,
A curled serpent in a cave,
Slowly stirring, his coils spread,
In the underworld he’s made his nest,
And waited through the coldest time,
Darkling serpent, shining snake,
His head he raises and starts to move,
Crawling forth on fair Bride’s day,
Up the Well of Worlds he comes,
Across the Veil from world to world,
He hears the call of a thousand flames,
Candles lit and fires bright,
The heat, the light, it calls him forth,
Through deepest dark and waters cold,
Up he crawls, reborn from death,
Cthonic darkling, to worlds above,
Ravens dance the dance of death,
And flames the flicker, the spark of life,
The Bride she calls, the serpent comes,
Reborn and new, the strange Horned Child,
And a ring around the moon.

(Reborn from Down Below – Spring Equinox 3/20/2012)

Two months he swam,
Up through the well,
His scales flashing in the dark.

Twisting, turning,
Swimming, soaring,
Through the Veil of Worlds.

Into the light,
He pokes his head,
Sun flashing of his scales.

Reborn at least,
After Winter’s grave,
Reborn from down below.

Two months ago,
He heard the call,
His Bride invoked his name.

And now he rises,
From the grave,
To live and love again.

Heat of sun,
In Spring’s cold wind,
Coiled on a rock.

Prepare he does,
For May’s fine feast,
And Marriage to his Bride.

(The Risen Lord and Laughing Queen – Beltaine 5/1/2012)

The wakened sleeper clothed in gold,
Warmed with Spring and rising sun,
Draped in green and newborn leaf,
Who once had died but rose again.

Golden scales and raven hair,
Skin of blue and feathers fair,
Who began a journey by candler’s flame,
And rose in glory in first leaf’s show.

In comes his Bride the fair Corn Maid,
Whose blackened veil now glowing white,
Grass stains on her small bare feet,
And bloodied sword upon her back.

The dancers dance and singers sing,
Risen lord and laughing queen,
The snow has melted and green grows strong,
Winter then Spring give way to sun.

Veil of white over golden hair,
A cotton dress with playful tears,
Small feet dance as if on air,
She laughs in joy at his peacock flair.

Round they spin just like the year,
Celebrating life and new found love,
Love reborn from past the grave,
Youth and Maiden, lust and joy.

The time has come to start again,
A marriage feast and strong bond hands,
New life, new love, all is born,
Eternal love, past Death’s cold hand.

Around the pole the ribbons fly,
Dancing round in lustful fun,
In honor to the fair Corn Maid,
And Peacock Lord reborn again.

(From Blessed Womb and Serpent’s Seed – Summer Solstice 6/20/2012)

Summer’s heat has come again,
And with it a growing womb.
The union formed of May’s young flowers,
Begins to start to show.
The risen lord’s seed runs strong,
The laughing queen was ripe.
In summer’s heat, her sweat is sweat,
The warmth that forms within.
She smiles sweetly in Solstice sun,
Spring’s rain fades away.
The white veil gone, her golden hair,
Darkens to chestnut brown.
New moon’s time, a darkened moon,
A bonfire burning high.
The dancers dance, round and round,
A fever burning high.
The Horned King sits close by her side,
His smile as big as hers.
The summer sun it rises bright,
Round like her growing womb.
The moon moves on and starts to grow,
Just like her unborn Child.
Summer’s heat has come again,
And with it a growing womb.
The womb will grow to harvest time,
The Child that will be born.
From blessed womb and serpent’s seed,
The Mother of all life.

(A Child of Blood – Lugh’s Day 7/30/2012)

A child is born,
A child is given,
On the feast in fair Lugh’s name.

A child of light,
A child of blood,
A Horned Child is given birth.

Well of the Womb,
Water and darkness,
Born into the bright light of day.

Shining fair,
A Hunter born,
Of starlight and mystic earth.

Hunter and hunted,
Herder and rancher,
An animal both wild and free.

Born for the sword,
Born for the bow,
Born to be the Winged Serpent’s death.

A child is born,
A child is given,
On the feast in fair Lugh’s name.

A child of light,
A child of blood,
A Horned Child is given birth.

(A Mortal Wound – Autumn Equinox 9/22/2012)

The Horned Child rises ever strong,
Like a mighty angel with a sword of steel,
He ventures forth in search of prey,
Looking for a Serpent with feathered wings,
He finds him then, near end of life,
The Winged Serpent weak, while the Child is strong,
He stalks his prey desiring the kill,
He takes his time for the hour is nigh,
In the early snow, he finds the trail,
The autumn’s chill soon slows the snake,
The Child approached, so full of faith,
Of how this will end, of what’s at stake,
He raises his sword and makes the blow,
A mortal wound that can’t be healed,
But the time is short, and has not come,
The Wounded Serpent does get away,
The Child was wrong, the death wasn’t sure,
But he trudges one, still on the trail.

(The Hunter’s Lamb – Samhain 10/31/2012)

On a black altar on All Soul’s Night,
The Wounded Serpent makes last call,
He will not go down without a fight,
But he knows not enough will be hid all,
He howls defiance to the coming night,
But the Gates are open, he can hear the call,
The Horned Child pauses, about to strike,
He wants this death, he wants this fight,
A raised high sword, like a lightning flash,
But he’s still too slow for he missed the point,
A female figure all dressed in black,
A blood red veil, and a living knife,
With one fell slash, she takes a life,
Who was once her groom, now a sacrifice,
Blue blood runs from the Serpent’s throat,
His time is down, it is time to rest,
And with a knife still wet and a heavy heart,
She takes the arm of the fair Horned Child,
She leads him off to be the light,
Through winter’s darkness and the coldest night,
And the Serpent rests far beneath the Well,
A fitful slumber of dreams of spring,
He’ll awake again, and swim the Well,
A groom once more to a fickle Bride,
But for now in darkness that is but a dream,
With the Horned Child the victor upon the throne,
Through winter’s blanket and the barren land,
The Lord of Beasts and the Hunter’s Lamb.

FFF,
~Muninn’s Kiss

 

Michaelmas: Time of Binding

Today, we stand at Michaelmas (though the original sate wasn’t until October 11).  This is the day the Western Church traditionally honours all the Angels, but more specifically the Archangels, and most specifically the Archangel Michael.  It is traditionally the day Michael kicked Satan (or Lucifer) from Heaven.

This is a time of year for binding, for reducing, for constricting.  The days shrink, just as the moon shrinks following the full moon.  The spring, heading toward the Summer Solstice, as the days increase, is a time for loosing, for increasing, for expanding.  But now we bind, not loose.

Michaelmas (under the current Western calendar), falls one week after the Equinox.  It’s significant that it falls at this point in the year, after harvest, heading toward Samhain.  At this point when the days are shortening, when winter is coming.

This year, the full moon lands on Michaelmas this moon.  Tonight is the height of the Tide of the current moon.  The energy flows strong, from that white mirror, that whole in the black sky.  A dark night full of light.

Half a moon has passed since the Sage Brush Moon ended.  Half way to the next Dark Moon.  This is a moon of changing, of turning.  The Moon of the Equinox, half way to darkness.  The Moon of Michaelmas, of Lucifer’s fall from heaven, the Bright and Morning Star.  The leaves changing, the season changing.    This is truly the Changing Moon, a moon for bringing change into the world.

The main story of Michaelmas, of the Archangel Michael overcoming Lucifer and casting him from Heaven, is of course paralleled many places.  One such is Hera kicking Hephaestus, the smith of the gods, from Olympus, the fall giving him a limp the rest of his life.  Looking at that, we see Bran, wounded in the foot in the battle with Ireland, and eventually dying, but his head living on, speaking for a year.  We see the Fisher King in Arthurian Legend, wounded through the thighs, unable to walk, so spending his time fishing in a boat.  We find Odin, pierced through the side with his out spear, hanging upside on the Tree, then falling to the depths of the roots.  Jesus stabbed in the side, then descending to Sheol.  The Fall of the Watchers is also the Descent of the Watchers, also, the Descent of Inanna, of Ishtar.

We find this motif also in our myth cycle of the year.  At the equinox, the power was in the balance, but now it’s tipped.  The Horned Child has grown in power, and he confronts the Winged Serpent, challenges him.  The Serpent has never know how to back down from a challenge.  He rises to that challenge, the two fight.

But the Serpent is weakening and the Horned Child is stronger.  The Serpent is God of the Vegetation, and with the harvest, his power waned.  The Horned Child is God of the Beast, and with the Hunt, he grows strong.  As the cold Northern Wind, he howls, the howls of wolves.  His is the call of ravens, gathering around the dead and dying.  He is strong and only getting stronger, heading toward his height at the time of the Wild Hunt.  He wounds the Serpent, but does not kill yet.  He casts him down, and this time of the year, he does not heal.

He who was once a vibrant young man, happy in love, without a care in the world, is now old, now weak, now wounded.  He walks with a limp, in old rags that were once royal robes.  He walks hunched over, a lantern in his hand, staring into the growing darkness with eyes that are failing him, unsure what the future holds where once he could see the path laid out before him.

And so Michaelmas passes and we rush towards Samhain.

FFF,

~Muninn’s Kiss

 

Equinox Crossroads: The Beauty of Autumn

We come once again to a crossroads.  Though the equinox doesn’t officially come until Saturday afternoon, I felt the High Tide this afternoon, so for me, it is the equinox.  The equinox, like all the Knots, like all the Tides, is truly a crossroads, and all crossroads are decision points.

As you move further north in Europe, or in North America, harvest shift back toward the Solstice.  Further south, they shift the over way.  Planting shifts toward the same point, planting and harvest approaching each other.  In the far north, Planting is around May Day and harvest is around the Summer Solstice.  In the south, there are even winter crops.  The two points vary as you move north.  South of the Summer Solstice Harvest, but north of the Mediterranean.  Often three harvests are discussed, that of Lugh’s Feast, that of the Autumn Solstice, and that of Samhain.

In Laramie where I live, there is only one crop worth growing, one harvest a year.  Hay grows well and will feed the cattle through the long winter if the weather cooperates.  Though none of the Knots or Tides are commonly celebrated, they do roughly correspond to our growing season.  Typically, planting occurs between May Day and the Summer Solstice.  Typically harvest is between Lugh’s Day and the Autumn Equinox.  Planting has to be done after the last major freeze but before the rain comes.  Harvest occurs after the rain stops, but also after the hay has time to dry in the heat following the rain, but before the first major freeze.  This leaves a precarious balance.  If the cold lasts too late of the rains come too soon, the hay planted has little chance.  If the rain comes too late or ends too soon, the hay won’t grow.  If the rain lasts too long or the heat doesn’t last long enough, the hay doesn’t dry and if it can be harvested at all, it risks rot.  If the snow comes too soon, time runs out to finish harvest.

This year was an odd year.  Instead of May, Spring came in March, way too early.  This meant the water from the runoff, used for irrigation, peaked in May instead of July.  March is too early to plant, and the rain came too early, lid April instead of late May, and ended too early as well, early June instead of mid July.  The heat came early, mid June instead of early August.  The fields were dry enough for harvest in early August, way too early.  The hay grew about six inches this year instead of about two feet normally.  The ranchers didn’t have much to harvest, and grazing began to fade early as well, so the need for hay came early.  Hay prices have soared, but there is not enough supply for the demand no matter how much it costs.  A very bad thing heading into what appears will be an early winter.

We are approaching the full moon of the third moon of Autumn, when we should be in the second moon.  The first moon of Autumn was the Yarrow Moon, and the second was the Sagebrush Moon.  I’m unsure what name to give this current one.  Candidates currently are the Moon of Yellow Leaves, the Yellow Moon, the Dust Moon, the Cooling Moon, the Harvest Moon, and the Blood Moon.

The Autumn Equinox is a very obvious crossroads.  It stands at the midpoint between Midsummer and Midwinter, between the Summer Solstice and Winter Solstice.  The name Equinox is of course Aequus Nox, Equal Night.  From a astronomical point of view, it is the point where the sun rises at about six in the morning and sets at about six in the evening, with a twelve hour day and a twelve hour night.  It is the midpoint in the progression of day/night, with the longest day at the Summer Solstice and the longest night at the Winter Solstice.  The equinox is half way between, with the decreasing days and increasing nights passing each other as they swing the other way.

What’s interesting is that the cross quarters (Beltane/May Day, Lugh’s Day, Samhain, Candlemas/Bride’s Day) and the Solstices were common times for festivals and feasts, yet the equinoxes seldom were.  They are easier to observe for the common person without instruments or charts than any other, yet they are seldom observed.  But, then, the cross quarters were marked by the rising of certain stars, they were stellar in nature.  The Solstices are when the sun enters Cancer and Capricorn, and the Equinoxes are when the sun enters Aries and Libra.  They are solar but marked by stellar times.  The importance of the Solstices seem obvious.  The sun begins dying with the Summer Solstice, and coming back alive with the Winter Solstice.  But what purpose would the Equinoxes actually hold?  It would depend on the area, more than likely.  Some areas would indeed have planted and harvested at the equinoxes, but mostly they are a sign of the approach of Beltane and Samhain.

Looking at the Zodiac, the Autumn Equinox marks the sun moving from Virgo into Libra, from the Virgin to the Scales.  Virgo marks the end of growing in many cultures.  She is the Corn Maiden, the Wheat Maiden.  The brightest star is Spica, Spica Virginis, the Maiden’s Ear of Grain.  Spica is the fruit the Maiden brings.  Libra, though, the Scales, is judgment and endings.  It is Ma’at weighing the human heart against a feather.  It is accounts settled after the harvest is brought it.  Libra is the sign of cutting, the Cutter to Virgo’s Spinner.  Balanced scales of course are appropriate to the Autumn Equinox, a point of balance between night and day.

In areas like this area which truly have a defined Autumn, it truly is a beautiful time of year.  The grasses turn golden, the leaves bright yellow, the sky is a pale blue, with wispy clouds, the sunsets are reds and yellows, not the blues and purples of earlier in the year, the waters of the lakes and rivers are dark and secretive, the dust grey and dry.  There is a chill in the air that comes and goes, summer still hanging on stubbornly, winter sleepy but stirring.  The nights are cold but the days aren’t too chilly yet.  Sweat shirts and sweaters come out, though not worn constantly.  Everyone and everything can feel the Change in the air, the Year turning, Autumn approaching Winter.  The Scales stand balanced but begin to tip toward Night, toward Nyx, toward Nox.  They begin to tip toward Winter.

You will recall the Horned Child born at Lugh’s Feast.  The Winged Serpent grows old as Winter approaches, but the Horned Child grows stronger.  The Scales are balanced, The Horned Child increasing as Winter comes, the Winged Serpent growing weaker as Summer fades.  The Queen also ages, but she is not weaker.  Her white dress gives way to sable black robes, her black Night Veil runs red with Blood.  She who married the Winged Serpent as the Spinner and gave birth to the Horned Child as the Weaver has now become the Cutter.  And the stage is set for Samhain once more.

FFF,

~Muninn’s Kiss

 

As the Moons Change

And the tides turn and the moons change.  The Moon fades, the Moon grows.  The Summer warms and the Summer cools.  Summer gives way to Autumn.  As the moons change.

In July, I talked of the Flower Moon, of the Summer Solstice, of the Fire Moon.  The Fire Moon faded and another moon came.  That faded, and yet another came.  As the always do.  As the moons change.

After the Solstice, the Year marched on.  The Sun began its slow movement Southward, the days shortened.  Lugh’s Day Came and went.  As the moons change.

Fires seemed to grow until the Full moon of Fire, getting worse, bur as the Moon faded, so did the fires.  Fires continue in areas, and the ones that were here are not all out, buy with the passing of the Fire Moon, they no longer touched our lives.  They became forgotten, ignored.  New fires did not come, at least here.  With the moon, the fires withdrew for consciousness, from importance.  As the moons change.

So, we moved on in late July, from the Fire Moon to a new moon.  In the dark it was born.  With it, my allergies started acting up, an oddity, since usually this doesn’t come until the second week of so of September.  My allergies here in the valley have always been strange to me, as they never occurring in other places I have lived across the West.  Only once did I react to pollen, only one type.  As a kid, I sniffed a bundle of white yarrow flowers, and immediately sneezed.  Tried it again to test with the same results.  I had no reaction in general, only when I sniffed it directly.  So why allergies for a month here every year?  As the moons change.

Close to the middle of the unnamed Moon, just after the Full Moon, I traveled up into the mountains first to the East near Happy Jack, then the Southwest near Lake Owen.  I found plants in seed that I had expected to still see blooming.  I saw plants blooming that usually don’t until later.  I saw a world changing to Autumn when it should be the heart of Summer.  But Spring and Summer both came early, so no surprise there.  I thought to call it the Seed Moon because of all that had gone to seed, but it didn’t seem right.  I thought to call it the Moss Moon, for the moss I caught blooming.  But that didn’t fit either.  But I did find something that both fit the Moon and explained a mystery.  Everywhere I went, I saw yarrow blooming.  In small patches, it was scattered everywhere in the hills.  And I realized, the other signs I had seen all pointed to the time period of my normal allergies.  Like the other signs, yarrow was blooming early.  Though early, it was the time for yarrow to bloom, the Yarrow Moon.  As the moons change.

Earlier in the Yarrow Moon, just before the Full Moon of Yarrow, many calendars mark Lugh’s Day, also called Lammas (Hlaf-Mass, Loaf Mass) or Lughnasadh/Lunasa/Lunastal/Luanistyn (Lugh’s Feast) or Calan Awst (the Calends of August).  The myth goes that Lugh’s foster mother Tailtiu died of exhaustion after clearing the plans of Ireland for agriculture.  In memory of her sacrifice and to honour her death and memory, Lugh held a huge feast and sporting contest, the prototype for later jousts and similar events.  In another account, it marks Lugh defeating Balor (or Bel or Baal), the king of the giants, Fomorians.  Often, this was Lugh’s grandfather, and Lugh proclaimed a day of mourning for his death.  In later legends, it becomes Lugh who died and is mourned.  Lammas comes from the Saxon name, and was a Saxon feast around the same time.  Both are harvest festivals, the beginning of grain harvest, typically the first of three harvest festivals in the British Isles.  The clearing of the plans is obvious, the killing of Balor, not so much.  There are a couple hints in the details.  The death of the old giving rise to the new.  The mourning ceremony that continued almost to present day.  Bres, who had recruited Balor to fight that battle, being found alive and begging for mercy, first by offering to insure the cows of Ireland always give milk, then offering four harvests, then offering and having it accepted to teach the Dé how and when to plough, sow, and reap.  The last is obvious, it was on that day they learner the steps to get to harvest, which begins that time of year.  But what of death and mourning?  The harvest marks the death of the grain.  They grow until harvest, then are cut down, their heads cut off like people killed in battle, like Balor, cut down by Lugh’s spear through the back of his head or neck or through his one killing eye depending on the myth, his head falling and splitting and being impaled on a hazel tree, tree of wisdom and prophecy.  Many symbols there, but I won’t go into them now.  For our purposes here, Lugh cutting down Balor is the reapers cutting down grain in harvest, the mourning of that death.  As the moons change.

But that’s the origins and practices of tradition in the British Isles, among Celts and Saxons.  Wyoming is a different time and place, I am a different person, and Grimr is a different stream.  Lugh’s Day does not mark harvest here most years, where hay is the only crop.  No, I must look elsewhere, for the blooms and seeds, the harvest and births are here lunar, not solar, but the solar, and stellar, year hold mysteries beyond planting and harvest.  The secret lies not in the harvest per se, but in the day’s Twin across the year.  As Beltane and Samhain are linked, the Wedding and the Sacrifice, and Summer and Winter Solstices, the Child in the Womb and the Waking Serpent, so Bride’s Day and Lugh’s Day reflect.  The first thing to note is that Irish folk belief said animals didn’t give much milk in winter, but started producing after Brigid’s Day, Bride’s Day, when birthing began.  With milk comes butter, golden, like Lugh’s wheat at harvest.  Lugh’s from plants, Bride’s from animals.  There are also stories describing St. Brenden as father at Lugh’s. Feast and St. Brigid as mother.  Brenden can be shown as a sit in for Lugh, who could no longer be present in a Christian society.  Brigid/Bride became St. Brigid.  St. Brenden’s father was named Fionnlugh, Fionn Lugh.  Fionn was a great Irish hero, and we know Lugh.  Many rituals ones done in Lugh’s name are now done in St. Brenden’s name.  St. Brennan is of course the patron saint of navigation because of his voyage and roughly mirror’s the voyage of Bran mac Febal.  Bran the Blessed in Welsh tales, the giant who was King of all Britain, the possessor of the Cauldron of Rejuvenation and brother of Branwen, who was a sea god by all appearances, is often seen as the same as the Irish Bran mac Febal.  Bran the Blessed’s brother, Manawydan fab Llŷr in Welsh tales is Manannán mac Lir in Irishmyth and is the foster father of Lugh in Irish myth.  Like Bran in Welsh myth, Manannán in Irish myth is a sea god.  Curiously, it’s Manannán who prophecies to Bran mac Febal.  Both Llŷr and Lir are also sea gods, though little is said of them except who they are fathers to.  There is indication that they are the personification of the sea itself.  The similarities between the voyage of Bran mac Febal and that or St. Brenden, and the familial connections of Bran mac Febal, through Bran the Blessed and Manawydan, to Manannán, combined with his part in the voyage of Bran mac Febal, plus the abundance of sea gods and sea voyages in this confusing web, and Manannán being both the foster father of Lugh and the prophet directing Bran mac Febal seem to place St. Brenden in a role similar to that of Lugh, in a convoluted way.  (And it should not be ignored the Bran the Blessed became the Fisher King in Graal legend, and the connection between the Fisher King, the Land and Wasteland, and the Graal, with Lugh’s Day’s connection to fertility and harvest.)  So, in St. Brenden and St. Brigid overseeing Lugh’s Feast, we have Lugh and Brigid, father and mother of the feast, of the food, of the grain and butter, of the bread.  Fertility begins with Brigid, with the beginning of new life in February, ending with Lugh, with the harvest of August.  As the moons change.

It’s important, of course, to take the Zodiac into consideration. Lugh’s Day lands in the middle of Leo, the Lion.  The characteristic normally associated with people born in Leo relate well to both Bran the Blessed and to Lugh.  Generous, creative, enthusiastic.  Bran the Blessed was well known for his hospitality, his generosity.  Lugh was the master of all skills, he could do anything, create anything (among other things, like Brigid, we was a smith).  Creativity definitely applies.  And both were definitely enthusiastic, giving everything to anything they did.  The sun moves into Leo around July 23rd, reaches the middle around Lugh’s Day, then moves out around August 23rd.  As the moons change.

So we have a framework, but where does Lugh’s Day play into our cycle, the myth cycle I have described in previous posts?  The serpent killed in the Tide of Samhain, Awakened in the Tide of Widwinter, Called in the Tide of Candlemas (Bride’s Day), Reborn in the Tide of the Equinox, Wed in the Tide of Beltane, and Father of the Child in the Womb in the Tide of Midsummer.  Where does Lugh’s Feast find our Winged Serpent and our May Queen?  If impregnation was with the wedding at Beltane, and Midsummer had the focus of her pregnancy, Lugh’s Day must be the birth.  This is appropriate across from Bride’s Day, the Calling.  As the Winged Serpent crawls up the Well of Worlds, so the Horned Child is born through the Well of the Womb.  Twin and Twin.  Just as the Winged Serpent stirred in the Womb of Death as Midwinter, so the Horned Child stirred in the Womb of Life at Midsummer.  Twin and Twin.  Fitting parallels across the circle of the Year.  So, Lugh’s Day is the birth of the Horned Child.  Now, looking at Lugh and Brigid again, at the Golden Wheat and the Golden Butter, at Plant and Animal, looking at our cycle, the Winged Serpent becomes the Lord of Animals, and the Horned Child the Lord of Plants.  The Red God and the Green God.  The Hunter and the Gatherer.  The Herdsman and the Ploughman.  Abel and Cain.  Twins.  And Nexus and Catalyst as we will see as the year moves on.  As the moons change.

On the 17th of August, the Yarrow Moon drew to a close and a new Moon was born in the Dark of the Moon, as a new Moon is always born.  With the fading of the Yarrow Moon, my allergies faded and vanished as the new Moon began to grow.  This was a hard time for me, as my grandma died the day before the New Moon.  I distracted myself that evening by spending it in the high mountains below Medicine Bow Peak in the Snowies, started near the Lake of Tears and Skye’s Cairn.  I stopped many places on my way up, and spend several hours in the country around the mountain.  I realized that high country was very much what Jutenheim would be like, a place of giants and ancient power and wisdom.  On my way up, I discovered the sagebrush had begun to bloom in places.  On the Dark of the Moon itself, I went up to my working site and had an encounter with Deneb among other things, though I won’t go into detail in this public place.  Deneb was once the Pole Star, before it shifted to Polaris.  It sits in an open Well of Darkness in the sky, right by the Milky Way.  This is a timely experience, as the Chinese Feast of Qixi, the Night of Sevens, falls on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month.  The Moon following the Yarrow Moon is that month this year, placing Qixi on the day beginning at sundown on the 23rd of August this year the Thursday following my experience.  Qixi celebrates Zhinu and Niulang, the Weaver Girl and the Cowherd.  The Weaver Girl was princess of Heaven, and the Cowherd, a lowly human herdsman.  They fell in love and the Jade Emperor, the Weaver Girl’s father, got upset and placed a river between them.  Each year on Qixi, the magpies (it is also called the Magpie Feast) gather and form a bridge over the river so they can be together for one night.  Vega is the Weaver Girl.  Altair is the Cowherd.  The Milky Way is the River.  And Deneb is the Magpie Bridge, the Bridge across the River that separates Heaven and Earth.  Deneb is a Bridge between the Human and the Divine.  I’ve talked of Bridges before.  Sunday following the Dark of the Moon, I traveled down to Colorado to pick up my love from the airport.  On the way, I stopped and observed, and the sagebrush was blooming more and more.  This continued.  Some bloom sage green, but some bloom bright yellow.  sagebrush is important in Wyoming.  It the main native plant of the High Plains.  Some sagebrush in Wyoming is over 200 years old and seven or eight feet tall.  I call this old growth sagebrush.  Like those who settled in Wyoming, sagebrush is hard to kill. It survives the extremes of weather, from hard winters to hot summers.  It does fine in the short growing seasons.  It can survive on very little water but isn’t killed by flooding.  But it spreads very slowly and is virtually impossible to transplant, so once it’s cleared, it will take a generation for it to reclaim the fields.  sagebrush was used as a medicinal plant by natives to Wyoming.  It was used to treat infection, treat headaches and colds, and to stop internal bleeding.  Infection was treated with a poultice.  It was inhaled for colds and head aches, sometimes just breathed in, sometimes burned and the smoke inhaled, depending on the tribe.  For internal bleeding, it was drank as a tea.  On the Full Moon of this Moon (which was the Blue Moon, as I discussed in a previous post), I once again spent time outside in meditation.  I encountered the Twins in a dark mirror, but can’t give any more details here.  As this Moon draws to a close, I look back on the month, at the death of my grandmother on the 16th before the Moon changed, to Deneb on the 17th, to the return of my love on the 19th, to the lose of my job on the 24th, to my grandma’s memorial service on the 26th, to the Twins on the 31st.  I look at the darkness of the first half of the Moon, but growing light in the second half.  I look at the steadily increasing signs of Autumn as the days grow shorter and the temperatures drop, as the leaves slowly change and the sagebrush blooms.  The second Moon of Autumn, early but firm, draws to a close.  Looking back, this month of death and endings, of darkness and light, seems to be a month for the sagebrush of the plains, not the trees or plants of the mountains.  It’s a month of ranchers not mountain men, of cattle and antelope, not the animals of the mountains.  Life fades in the mountains, but the prairies bloom.  So here we draw to the end of the Sagebrush Moon, wondering what the Dark of the Moon tomorrow night will bring, what the third Moon of Autumn has in store for us, what the coming Equinox will reveal.  As the moons change.

FFF,
~Muninn’s Kiss