I know, I know…
… I promised to keep on top of things and make sure I’m here often to keep you informed and up to date on life in a small Cumbrian town but…
… I’m failing miserably and for that I apologise!
So, here we are then – not only are we in 2020 but we are already in February – time passes and, when you look, poof, there it is – gone.
‘Tis the festival of Imbloc – marking the transition from Winter to Spring. Imbolc marks the very beginning of the first signs of spring; Snowdrops and Crocuses are appearing alongside Witch-Hazel. They are very quickly followed by the likes of Daffodils, Iris and Pussy-Willow. The ewes are in milk and the first lambs are starting to be born. Mother Nature is waking up from her winter sleep. Imbolc, falling roughly half-way between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox is a deserving celebration. Life and colour are becoming visible again. Also known as the festival of Brid (or Brighid, or Ffraed, or Brigantia) we celebrate the changing of the Goddess from the Crone to the Maiden.
Cailleach Bheur – Imbolc was believed to be the day the Cailleach (the hag) — gathers her firewood for the rest of the winter. Legend has it that if she wishes to make the winter last a good while longer, she will make sure the weather on Imbolc is bright and sunny, so she can gather plenty of firewood. People would be relieved if the weather on the day of Imbolc is foul, as it means the Cailleach is asleep and winter is almost over.
Today is dull and wet… it does not bode well!
I’ve been busy, and in mourning too. A favourite and much loved uncle has passed and joined the pantheon of my ancestors who stand watch over the family – those of us who remain will remember him with much love and affection. Close on his heels, scampering across the Rainbow Bridge, went his faithful hound – joined once more, they will laugh, run and play catch in the meadows of the Summerland. Blessed Be them both.