Saturday, June 23, 2012
The time of gathering has begun!
Ah Mid-Summer! The world
is a riot of colors against a backdrop of summer greens and sky blue.
Here in northern
Delaware’s Brandywine Valley, it means brilliant orange Tiger Lilies
brightening roadsides, blackberries ripening, the perfume of honeysuckle,
yellow squash blossoms, and loads of sugar snap peas, greens, and herbs for the
dinner table.
The days have become hot
and humid; filled with growth and green.
Around here, the saying goes that the corn should be “knee high by the
Fourth of July,” but this year early
June’s warm days and ample rainfall will make the corn crop waist high, or even
shoulder high by the time we’re watching fireworks.
The summer solstice
radiates vital energy. The sun’s power
has waxed to its fullness. But even as
the “Oak King bows down to the ground,” and nights are gradually lengthening,
the summer continues its rhythm of growth and ripening,
The compost bin is full
and cooking. As I turn it and inhale its
unmistakable “aroma,” I remind myself that it too will help the land--providing
fertile soil for next year’s crops.
Pea seeds planted on St.
Patrick’s Day have twined up their wire fencing. Delicate tendrils shot up along with a
riot of white pea blossoms which ripened into sugar-snaps for our table.
I’ll miss our cooler
season crops now that 90 plus degree days have arrived. This year we’ve planted more herbs and the
spearmint, especially, has been a delightful addition to ice tea and --that coolest
hot day cocktail—Mojitos.
As the temperature rises,
and people and lettuce wilt in the heat, most living things crave its opposing
element—water.
This summer solstice,
while the temperature soared towards 100 degrees, we clambered into “The
Breadbox” (our unairconditioned 15 passenger
van) and took a trip to Cape Henlopen State Park on the Delaware shore. Earth, air,
fire and water met at the ocean edge creating the perfect combination of refreshing
shore to land breeze, firm sand, warmed waves, and brilliant sunlight.
As much as I love cumulus clouds drifting above a sun-warmed seascape , I’m grateful for seasonal balance.
Like a high tide, the sun
has reached and receded from its most northern point in the sky and (minute by
minute each day) our part of the earth begins to receive some relief in the form of night's healing darkness.
It also means that we are in the home stretch with
Solstice Moon Solstice Sun’s layout! As soon as Ellen finishes getting the copy
looking the way it should, we’ll send SMSS off to Taylor Specialty Books.
We’ll post pictures real
soon.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
Of Apples, Applesauce, and Autumn
A cold October wind moans through the windows. The sky is moody and the light is muted. But our house is bustling, warm, and filled by the delicious scents of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cooking apples. In our house, this is the season for making applesauce. This year we canned 160 jars over three days using five pressure cookers, two Roma Food Strainers and eighteen half bushel bags of assorted “seconds” from Schobers Orchard in Monroeville, NJ. It's a highly anticipated process that involves the whole family; and on a cool truly "autumnal" day like this, it also turns us inward toward hearth and home.
It's easy to understand why the apple has been an important symbol across cultures and history. Baked, sauced, or au naturel, apples taste delicious, are pleasant to look at, store well, and are a great excuse to take a trip to a local orchard and have a bit of harvest fun. Hmm...Eve is often painted handing Adam an apple for the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. For the Norse it was a symbol of youth. It gave the Celts a desire for fairie.
The apple is also a great way to illustrate the seasonal cycle. That's why many a kindergarten teacher uses apple tree art projects . Bare in the winter, lovely, fragrant flowers in spring, fruit in late summer, and golden leaves and a final harvest come autumn.
An apple can also help Pagan parents convey their beliefs to their children. Beneath its bright, shiny skin, right in its center, is a five pointed "star." Spreading some paint on a sponge and helping your little one press the half sphere into it and then onto a piece of paper is a great way to have some fun together while giving your child a sense of the connection between nature based beliefs and a part of nature. Earth, air, fire, water, and spirit hidden within a womb forging the cycle from bud, to leaf, to petal to fruit.
PS Our Kickstarter project is 81 percent funded please help us to meet and exceed our goal!
Friday, October 14, 2011
NEW KICKSTARTER GOAL & LINK!
We have a new Kickstarter page and link. Here 'tis!
http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1462174029/imagine-dream-explore-solstice-moon-solstice-sun
http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1462174029/imagine-dream-explore-solstice-moon-solstice-sun
Saturday, October 8, 2011
The Time Between
My husband, six year old daughter, and I took a walk through the woods and farmland of the Brandywine Valley this afternoon. The sky was cloudless and blue; the air summer warm. But tan fields of dry corn stalks, the first yellow leaves spiraling down, and high honking Vs of geese heading south left no doubt that Autumn is here.
Ramsey Farm's tractors rumble and bump up and down the hills dropping families off at the pumpkin fields. This is my favorite season of the year because is stands between. It is the ripened fruit on the withering plant. It is a time of transition and transformation.
Today the woods brought this lesson home. As we began our walk, we stopped to look at a Black Rat Snake sharing the trail and enjoying a patch of sunlight. I explained to out little girl that soon it would grow cold and the snake would find a hollow log, a burrow, or even a space under our wood pile where it would spend the winter hibernating.
We too are basking in the sunlight of this warm day. Enjoying it all the more because we know that soon the warmth will depart.
Towards the end of our walk, I found a snake skin on the trail. I held it in the palm of my hand and felt the tingle of its residual energy. I explained that the old skin had become too small and maybe too full of parasites --that the process of shedding old skin takes work, but that the snake emerges with a beautiful new skin and travels on leavening the old skin behind.
Just as we neared the small parking lot, our daughter exclaimed, "Eew mommy! Poor possum!"
A small possum lay on the side of the trail where the tractor had cleared underbrush. As we stepped around it, we talked a little about the natural cycle of endings and beginnings--the possum would return to the earth, but in the spring new baby possums would be born.
Through nature walks and observance of nature based spirituality, our six-year old daughter knows that there is a cycle--that every living thing is born, changes, and will someday die. As she moves toward the light, cuddles her doll and talks about kindergarten, the cycle isn't something she dwells upon--nor would we want her to do so. But as middle-ages adults, we carry and accept this reminder that we are all blessed and bound into this cycle; that death leads to rebirth; darkness to light, and that we all shift from one existence into another.
Ramsey Farm's tractors rumble and bump up and down the hills dropping families off at the pumpkin fields. This is my favorite season of the year because is stands between. It is the ripened fruit on the withering plant. It is a time of transition and transformation.
Today the woods brought this lesson home. As we began our walk, we stopped to look at a Black Rat Snake sharing the trail and enjoying a patch of sunlight. I explained to out little girl that soon it would grow cold and the snake would find a hollow log, a burrow, or even a space under our wood pile where it would spend the winter hibernating.
We too are basking in the sunlight of this warm day. Enjoying it all the more because we know that soon the warmth will depart.
Towards the end of our walk, I found a snake skin on the trail. I held it in the palm of my hand and felt the tingle of its residual energy. I explained that the old skin had become too small and maybe too full of parasites --that the process of shedding old skin takes work, but that the snake emerges with a beautiful new skin and travels on leavening the old skin behind.
Just as we neared the small parking lot, our daughter exclaimed, "Eew mommy! Poor possum!"
A small possum lay on the side of the trail where the tractor had cleared underbrush. As we stepped around it, we talked a little about the natural cycle of endings and beginnings--the possum would return to the earth, but in the spring new baby possums would be born.
Through nature walks and observance of nature based spirituality, our six-year old daughter knows that there is a cycle--that every living thing is born, changes, and will someday die. As she moves toward the light, cuddles her doll and talks about kindergarten, the cycle isn't something she dwells upon--nor would we want her to do so. But as middle-ages adults, we carry and accept this reminder that we are all blessed and bound into this cycle; that death leads to rebirth; darkness to light, and that we all shift from one existence into another.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Mabon--The Second Harvest
The seasons are shifting. The air is still hot and muggy, but every day the sun sets earlier. On the fringes of the woods, the first leaves turn yellow. Honey-rich Autumn light plays across cornfields where tassels and ears are stiff and brown. Like delinquent children, our pumpkin vines have run rampant across our yard. But the vines are yellowing now and plump, orange pumpkins nestle in high grass speckled with Goldenrod and Aster. Soon, we'll cut the withered cords, store them in the root cellar, and make our annual pilgrimage to Schober's orchard so that we can make applesauce from crisp, fresh picked Honey Crisps, Empire, Braeburns, and Gingergolds.
As the days shorten, we move away from long weekends at the beach and transition into school and work routines.
Luckily, Mabon (the Autumn Equinox) reminds us of the need to find balance even as we transition --to let go of some things to make way for others that fit this season of our lives. The Second Harvest is a time to rejoice and give thanks for nature's bounty and all that is fruitful and positive in our lives.
But even as we celebrate abundance, we know that The Wheel of The Year will turn toward darkness, cold, scarcity, and death. The bountiful Mother WILL become the wise Crone. Knowing this, we embrace duality--the abundance and beauty of this day, this time as well the knowledge that soon the earth will become barren and that--like falling leaves-- we must let go of those parts of our lives that we have outgrown--to look within and discern and embrace the darkness without which light would have no meaning.
As the days shorten, we move away from long weekends at the beach and transition into school and work routines.
Luckily, Mabon (the Autumn Equinox) reminds us of the need to find balance even as we transition --to let go of some things to make way for others that fit this season of our lives. The Second Harvest is a time to rejoice and give thanks for nature's bounty and all that is fruitful and positive in our lives.
But even as we celebrate abundance, we know that The Wheel of The Year will turn toward darkness, cold, scarcity, and death. The bountiful Mother WILL become the wise Crone. Knowing this, we embrace duality--the abundance and beauty of this day, this time as well the knowledge that soon the earth will become barren and that--like falling leaves-- we must let go of those parts of our lives that we have outgrown--to look within and discern and embrace the darkness without which light would have no meaning.
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