Think globally, act locally”, “People of Place”, Rewilding” – these are all concepts to do with connecting with our physical being, a living creature occupying a niche in a particular place on a living planet. It’s a key to our survival, but it’s also glorious to kindle awareness of that.
I’m not a fan of winter. I like light and warm. I like being barefoot and outside. Winter always comes on me unprepared. So the equinox is a good warning. It’s like when the kids are playing hard and having fun and the games are getting a bit manic, and you give them first warning – half an hour more and it’s time to come in and get cleaned up.…
Today is Lammas, Lughnasadh in the Southern hemisphere. It’s the end of the long lazy days of summer holiday, and the start of the autumn season of bringing in the harvest. It’s the start of the season where you reap what you have sown, for good or bad.
Tomorrow morning, at 8.47 am, we here in eastern Australia reach the crest of the year. The earth tilts its face fully towards the sun, the shadows that day will be at their shortest, the day the longest.
Here we are in the odd position of celebrating Halloween, a festival that, in European tradition, marks the start of winter, when thoughts turn to mortality and all around are reminders that every living thing dies. But tonight I will light the fairy lights in the carport and dress up, I think perhaps as a dragonfly, or maybe a mud wasp? Some predatory insect anyway, and make a batch of…
Happy equinox everyone. For us in the southern hemisphere, it is Ostara, the spring equinox, celebration of babies of every species (and rabbits and eggs). Celebration that life renews over and over, generation begatting generation into not just the 7th generation but forever – a good moment to reflect on how wonderous and astonishing it is that this little blue green planet on the outskirts of an obscure galaxy has life.
Every year in my community, as part of our winter solstice celebrations, we have a gift giving ritual. We draw names out of a hat six weeks earlier, and hand make a gift. This year, Garry drew me and made me these bellows for my slow combustion stove.