Every Day, There Is Something New...

 

Every day there is something new. This morning, the first cowslips. Yesterday I heard the chatter of swallows for the first time this year (yes, they're back!). And before that, lady's smock, blackthorn blossom, the smell of newly-mown grass, magnolia flowers, a slow worm basking in the sun.

New, and yet familiar. Because I have seen all these things before, they are familiar. But they are new again each year as the seasons turn and the Earth and her beings cycle through life. What a miraculous paradox we live in - and how strange and yet natural that we should take it for granted. It is, after all, the reality we live in.

Thinking on this, I imagine the span of my life like the tightly coiled loops of a telephone cord (yes, the old-fashioned ones when telephones still had cords!). The spiral grows in length, but it coils round and around, coming back to almost the same spot yet NOT the same spot. Somewhere the same, yet a bit further on. Somewhere different, yet a place that can be recognised because the spiral has travelled this route before.

Sometimes the path of our lives is like this. We all have patterns of behaviour that repeat, and sometimes these cause us problems. And it can be so hard to see that it is our repeating patterns causing the difficulties in life. If the same problem in different guises keeps cropping up, it is worth examining it to see how you yourself may be contributing to the dynamic. Recently, I have ended more than one 'friendship' after realising that my role as a 'people pleaser' was enabling certain people to take advantage of me and that I needed to be more firm about my boundaries. My desire to please was leading me to say yes, whether I wanted to or not. It can be hard to make such changes, but it can be done - and we are all works in progress!

And so we continue on, spiralling around and further along. The spiral sometimes makes it hard to see how far we have come, yet look back along its length. Who were you 5 years ago, 10 years ago, 20 years ago? The same, yet different. Always growing, always changing, always revisiting what needs to be revisited, always finding a new way to travel the path.

Every day, there is something new...


        

Impatient

Spring is unfolding in every hedgerow. Suddenly there are celandines, raising bright shining faces to the sun. The fields are green, bees nuzzle honey from heather, and even the thorn-harsh thicket offers tender new leaves. 

I am watching, waiting for the first swallows, eager as a child is for Christmas. Surely they will come soon, and my heart will leap in welcome. It has been so long, a whole winter long of longing for spring. When they come, they will swoop in joy, and there will be apple blossom and bluebells and beech leaves, warm nights and long days. 

But for now I wait, and count every sign of spring, squirrelling them away like precious morsels to remind and reassure myself that soon the swallows will return, and summer in their wake.

Spring Equinox Altar

On This Bright Spring Morning

On this bright spring morning I peg out the washing, the sun warm on my back though there's frost in the fields. I listen to the song of small birds, the contented chicken murmurs, the cry of lambs and the sound of distant church bells. I notice the fattening buds on the trees, the hazel catkins and the daffodils raising their faces to the sun. One of the cats rubs against my legs.

All's right with the world on this bright spring morning.

Dragonrise Witchcamp 2015

Walking to the Stone Circle in the meadow at Dragonrise in 2013 

 

I am very happy to announce that I will be teaching at Dragonrise Witchcamp again this summer. This will be my second time at Dragonrise (you can read about my first year here).

 

 

From the camp website:

 

Dragonrise is a long-weekend family-friendly camp full of magic!

The next camp will take place between 30 July to 2 August 2015 at Wildways on the Borle in Shropshire.

Dragonrise is open to all ages and experience levels and has already built up a reputation for being accessible for newcomers, challenging for more experienced folks and welcoming to all.

Together we will learn magic, weave stories and grow. In 2009 we began a new adventure, a family friendly Witchcamp in Britain, originally called Sunrise. We would love for you to join us this year as we spread our wings again. Our goal is to be eco-friendly and as affordable as possible, while facilitating a magical experience for all who join us.

A Reclaiming Witchcamp is an intensive period of time working together with like-minded individuals within the context of a story. You choose which path you would like to take throughout our time together and each morning join teachers who will guide your learning. Each evening we come together in ritual based on the story of the week.

Throughout the camp you will learn new skills, meet new people, forge new friendships and grow in yourself.

Our first camp was in August 2009, in our previous incarnation as Sunrise Camp.

Our second camp was in August 2011, under our new and permanent name of Dragon Rise. We worked with the wonderful story, Dragonhearted, by Suus. Witches and witchlets arrived in the hills of Snowdonia from all over Europe, finding our dragon wings and opening our dragon hearts.

Our third camp was Catching the Tale in August 2013 at Wildways where we worked with Lugh and Brigid and the power of stories, rewriting our own in the process!

Witchcamp will change your life, just like magic!

This year we will be working with a beautiful myth from Shropshire and it is looking like it will be a wonderful camp! If you would like to join us, booking details can be found on the Dragonrise website here: http://dragonrise.spruz.com/downloads.htm. Click to download details and a booking form.

 

 

The Skylodge at Wildways, Dragonrise 2013

 

 

 

The Owls

 

The owls announced it first, twitting and quavering back and forth across the valley to each other. Engrossed in my task of chopping wood I hadn't even noticed, but they prompted me to look up and register the oncoming twilight.

The sun dropped behind the hill and daylight gradually drained away into the west. As I stacked the logs and put away the axe, I listened to the birds singing the sun to bed, the rooks gossiping as they settled in the rookery for the night, the owls greeting each other in the gloaming.

I listened intently to the sounds of oncoming night, smelled the woodsmoke on the breeze, watched the darkening sky.

As a last, tardy wren flitted to her roost, the stars appeared: first bright Venus following the sun, then more and more pinpoints of light like tiny guiding lanterns. Orion was completely visible by the time the birds finally fell silent.

I shut the chickens away and walked back to the house, the comforting glow of light in the porch beckoning me in.

Good hunting, owls.

Imbolc Altar

 

 

 Posted a little late... oh well!