BELTANE

"BELTANE" by Julia Jeffrey

http://www.etsy.com/shop/juliajeffrey

Tonight is the Eve of Beltane, one of the two most important Celtic festivals of the year, or, as we Americans know it, May Day. It is properly observed from sunset April 30 to sunset May 1.

I am so bummed out this Eve of Beltane. First, because we are having a blizzard here! Yes, a ton of snow and wind are combining to make for a nasty spring snowstorm in Bismarck. Will spring ever arrive here?

The second reason is that I have lost something near and very dear to me. It was a blog, of all things, a blog I shared with another person. It was called Ancestral Sisters, and it was about two young women in Britannia (Great Britain) in ancient Celtic times; two kindred spirits who could scry each other through fire (my character) and water (the other character).

"BELTANE" by Ric Kemp

The two of us took turns writing posts in character. My character, Aine (Anya), was a herbalist and healer who lived in Southern England. The other young woman was the keeper of a well in Ireland.

For my part, I did a lot of research on the daily life of the Ancient Celts and I scoured the web for dozens and dozens of paintings to accompany my posts. I wrote about Aine's life - her village, her hut and her companion animals; the preparations for and the celebrations of the major Celtic holidays; her work in growing  plants and in making medicines; her visits to a trade fair, a solo trip to the shore to gather seaside plants and a sacred trip with others across southern England to Stonehenge and the sacred tor at Glastonbury.

Fairy Ring Oracle

Illustrator Paul Mason

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Have I impressed upon you how hard I worked on the research and the writing, and how much this was a labor of love? There was enough there for a short book.

And now it is gone, "disappeared" by the other writer. Granted, I had not written on the blog for quite a while, but I expected it to be there forever and that I could draw upon it at anytime. And now it is lost to me forever. This was a bitter truth for me to learn, and for for all you bloggers to take a lesson from, especially those of you who share a blog. If you love something you've written or artwork or photos, save it somewhere else as a backup.

"BELTANE LORD AND LADY", Margaret Harwood
 

I had intended to use Aine's Beltane celebration for today's post, but now I will have to share with you a post I wrote at Beltane a couple of years ago:

On Beltane (or Beltaine) Eve and its counterpart, Samhain Eve (or Halloween), the veil between the two worlds is at its thinnest. But unlike Samhain, when spirits of the dead roam the world, on Beltane Eve it is the fairies who are returning from their winter respite, carefree and full of fairy delight and mischief. Beware, tonight the Queen of the Fairies will ride out on her white steed to entice humans away to fairyland. If you hear the bells on her horse, turn your face away, or she may choose you!

Beltane is a Gaelic festival, celebrated by those in Ireland, Scotland, and the Isle of Man. (Other Celts, like those in Wales and Gaul, had similar spring celebrations). The name Beltane means bright fire, bale fire, or Fire of Bel (Bel or Belinos being the Sun God). Halfway between the vernal equinox and the summer solstice, this day marks the beginning of the bright half of the year.

"BELTANE GROVE" by Mickie Mueller

http://www.mickiemuellerart.com/

Preparations for Beltane began with gathering flowers for the Maypole and for wearing on the body and in the hair. Young men went May boughing or May birching, gathering garlands of hawthorn (Mayflower) and rowan (mountain ash) to hang over doorways and windows. On the Isle of Man, the youngest child of a family would gather primroses to throw against the door of the house for protection.

From the woods, villagers gathered nine different types of sacred wood. From this wood, two giant bonfires, or need fires, were built on top of a hill. The villagers drove domestic animals between the two fires to purify and protect themselves and the animals, insure their fertility, and bring luck. People also jumped over the bonfires (hopefully after they had died down a bit) in a fertility ritual. In Scotland, boughs of juniper were added to the fire for purification and blessing.

The Beltane celebration honored life over death and celebrated the rebirth of the world. Above all, it was a fertility festival, a symbolic union of the God and Goddess, of the divine masculine and the divine feminine. A young virgin, often dressed in white with a crown of flowers, was chosen to be the Queen of the May. Her consort went by many names, including the Green Man, the May Groom, the May King, and Jack-of-the-Green, often dressed in green and decorated with leaves.

"THE MAY QUEEN" by Emily Balivet

www.emilybalivet.com

In Scotland, bannocks (or oatcakes), were passed around in a bonnet. One bannock had been blackened by the fire, and the person choosing the blackened bannock became The Fool. It was the hope that all misfortune would henceforth fall on The Fool and no one else. Poor Fool, he also had to jump over the bonfire three times.

After the fires died down, the youth of the village would slip into the woods to go "A-Maying", to act out in reality the symbolic joining of the God and Goddess. No wonder they sing about "The Lusty Month of May" in "Camelot".

May Day morning, the young people would emerge from the woods, perhaps mussed and disheveled, to dance around the Maypole, gaily decorated with colorful ribbons, flowers, leaves and garlands. Flowers were put in baskets and left on doorsteps for those who were too ill or too old to participate in the festival. From that, we get our modern day May baskets.

"BELTANE" by Wendy Andrew

http://www.paintingdreams.co.uk/

Beltane was serious business for the Celts. They believed that the wheel of the sky would not turn without their intervention, and they did everything in their power - with their fires, celebrations and rituals - to ensure that summer returned each year.

Beltane was celebrated in English villages up into the 1950s. The festivities came to include mummers' plays, Morris dancing, riding the hobby horse, feasting and drinking. Beltane is still celebrated in some areas. My dear English blogging friend Leanne (Dorset Days/Somerset Seasons) went to Glastonbury today, lucky, lucky lady. Tonight, the Beltane Fire Festival on Calton Hill in Edinburgh, Scotland, will attract 12,000 to 15,000 people.

Because of the blizzard (and city regulations, ha!), there will be no May bonfires for me tonight here in Bismarck, and certainly no creeping into the woods to go "A-Maying." Instead, I will play "Huron Beltane Fire Dance" by Loreena McKennitt a number of times. Since I can never listen to this music without dancing, I'll do a little springtime dance of my own, and maybe that will improve my spirits a bit.

"DANCING THE CIRCLE" by Mickie Mueller

"THE NAMES UPON THE HARP", A BOOK OF IRISH MYTH AND LEGENDS

"THE NAMES UPON THE HARP", written by Marie Heaney

and illustrated by P. J. Lynch

I had planned to write a post about this book while it was still March, so that I could include it in my "All Things Celtic" theme. However, I only received the book today. I'm going to write about it anyway, so just pretend it's still March (we have plenty of snow piles to make it seem so).

I learned about the book while I was writing my previous post about Niamh and Oisin. I discovered it only after I had found several wonderful illustrations for it from the gallery of P. J. (Patrick James) Lynch, a famous Irish artist.

According to the book, since childhood Lynch "has had images of Finn, the son of Cumhaill, and leader of the Fianna; Conor MacNessa, the King of Ulster; and Cuchulainn, the great hero, in his head. But only in collaboration with a story teller as respected as Marie Heaney did he feel ready to commit his images to paper."

Aiofe puts a spell on her stepchildren, turning

them into swans in "The Children of Lir"

Heaney, by the way, is the wife of famous Irish poet Seamus Heaney and a well respected writer and preserver of Irish folklore in her own right.

So far I have only had time to peruse the fabulous illustrations, but I will get around to reading the tales soon.
There are eight of them (plus one poem): "Moytura", "The Children of Lir", "The Birth of Cuchulainn", "Bricriu's Feast", "Deirdre of the Sorrows", "Finn and the Salmon of Knowledge", "The Enchanted Deer" and "Oisin in the Land of Youth."

Of the many characters in these stories, I had only heard of Cuchulainn, Deirdre, Oisin and Lugh of the Long Arm (from "Moytura"), so I have a lot of information to absorb!

The beautiful Eithlinn, held captive

in a tower, from "Moytura"

Heaney divides her book into three categories: "The Mythological Cycle", "The Ulster Cycle" and "The Finn Cycle". She gives a brief description of each of these cycles before relating the tales from them. I found this very useful, as I have run into these titles many times without really grasping what they meant.

From "Oisin in the Land of Youth"

"Fiercely fought battles, tender romances, spells and curses, loyalty and betrayal: the stuff of great drama, and unforgettable storytelling." That's what the publishers promise. I can't wait to immerse myself in these stories. Of them, Heaney says "What ensures their place in world literature is their agelessness, their value as expressions of the perennial art of the storyteller."

Through the millenia, these legends would have been lost forever if not for raconteurs and scribes like her.

Fomorian leader Balor of the Evil Eye, from "Moytura"

Although I found most of the illustrations to be stunningly beautiful, there are some ugly ones too (like Balor, above, who could slay 100 men with one glance), and even gruesome (a severed head), so you may want to check out the book before giving it to a child.

Supposedly, this book is for children about the age of 8 or 9. But I certainly found it to be enjoyable at the adult level. In fact, Heaney tells these great Irish legends far better than any version I have yet seen! I especially appreciated the pronunciation guide, as I have a tendency to pronounce them as they're spelled, e.g. oy-zin instead of ush-een (Oisin), loog instead of loo (Lugh) and ay-oi-fuh instead of eef-eh (Aoife).

The book retails at $19.95 but I was able to find a perfect used copy for $8.00 on amazon.com. I will also be looking for Heaney's other book, "Over Nine Waves: A Book of Irish Legend."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You and I leave names upon the harp"

Cuchulainn to Conor, from "Baile's Strand" by W. B. Yeats

NIAMH AND OISIN AND THE LAND OF TIR NA N'OG

"Oisin and Niamh of the Golden Hair" by P.J. Lynch

http://www.pjlynchgallery.blogspot.com/

(A set of Irish postal stamps is based on this illustration!)

At least twice this past week, I found myself wishing I was somewhere far away from North Dakota. One time was Tuesday afternoon, when I was fighting my way home during the second blizzard in 11 days. Another was the next morning, when I got stuck in the parking lot at work and it took three guys to push me out. They were nice enough to blame not bad driving on my part but on my "light, little" Sunbird for getting me into trouble.

Anyway, I was wishing I was somewhere bright and warm, where you don't have to go out and earn a living. Somewhere with no health or money worries and no nasty people to deal with. Some place like .... Tír na nÓg.

Tír na nÓg (pronouced Tear na Noge) is the most famous of the otherworlds in Celtic mythology. The name roughly means "Land of Youth." When the last generation of Tuatha Dé Danann (the gods and goddesses who ruled ancient Ireland) were conquered in battle, they were allowed to stay in Eire - if they went underground. Some retreated to live under the hollow hills and thence became known as the sidhe - or fairies - of ancient Celtic myth. Others went to Tír na nÓg.

Artist Unknown

Tír na nÓg was considered to be a place beyond the edges of the map, located on an island far to the west of Ireland. It could be reached by either an arduous voyage or an invitation from one of its fairy residents. This otherworld was a place where sickness and death did not exist. It was a place of eternal youth and beauty. Here, music, strength, life, and all pleasurable pursuits came together in a single place. Here happiness lasted forever; no one wanted for food or drink. It is sometimes considered to be  the Irish equivalent of the Greek Elysium, or the Valhalla of the Norse.

However, Tír na nÓg was not a place where souls went after death. The island was only inhabited by fairies and elves. Only a few mortals had even seen the island and their journies there often ended unhappily.

Greg and Tim Hildebrandt

Tír na nÓg is perhaps best known from the tale of Oisín (O-Sheen), one of the few mortals who ever lived there, and a fairy goddess, Niamh (Neeve).

Oisin was one of the great warrior poets of ancient Ireland. He was a member of his father Fionn’s band of legendary heroes, the Fianna. One day while Oisin was out hunting, a beautiful maiden approached him. She was Niamh of the Golden Hair, one of the Tuatha De Danann and the daughter of Manannán mac Lir, the god of the sea. Naturally, Oisin fell in love with her. She chose him to be her lover and live with her in Tir na nÓg.

"Niamh, Oisín and Embarr", Artist Unknown

They traveled to the Blessed Realm on a magical horse named Embarr, able to gallop on water. There they were married and lived happily together in that enchanted fairyland. Nobody - including Oisin - ever grew old or sick in Tir na nÓg. But even the land of eternal youth couldn’t banish memories and he began to miss his people and his home terribly. Niamh understood his need to visit the mortal world again and see his friends. She provided him with a fairy horse to take him there. She warned him, however, that he must not set foot on the earth – if he did, he would never be able to return.

Arriving back in Ireland, Oisin was devastated to learn that 300 years had passed in Ireland since he had been with Niamh, though it seemed to him only one year. His father and his men were long dead and the Fianna were the stuff of legends. Oisin decided to return to Tir Na nÓg and his beloved Niamh. On his way back he came across some men trying to lift a heavy rock and bent down to help them. Tragedy struck when he slipped from the saddle. Falling on mortal soil, Oisin was instantly transformed into an old blind man.

Oisin wandered Ireland for many years before St. Patrick took him into his house and tried to convert him to Christianity. Oisin told St. Patrick all of his tales of the Fianna and of The Land of Dreams. He eventually died without ever again setting eyes upon Niamh and Tir Na Óg.
 
 

"Oisin and St. Patrick", by P.J. Lynch

HAPPY OSTARA - OR SPRING EQUINOX!

"OSTARA BLESSINGS" by Angels Creations



The vernal - or spring - equinox occurs in my time zone about 6:30 this evening. As I have done in the past few years to honor this date, I am posting pictures showing beautiful spring goddesses. The goddess Ostara - or Eostre in Germanic languages - is honored at this time of year.

After publishing so many spring goddess paintings over the past few spring equinoxes, I was afraid that I wouldn't find any new images. But I did find a number of lovely ones to choose from, picking the most beautiful and rejecting any that I thought unattractive. There was one of Eostre with a face half human and half hare. Although the hare is a strong symbol of the vernal equinox, I found the image rather off putting. I also rejected any that showed nude women. Not that I found them unattractive, but I thought some readers might be offended.



"BELTANE", copyright Matt Hughes
MattHughesArt.com
 

I hardly need to explain the vernal equinox. It is one of the two times of the year when day and night are of equal length. It is one of the eight major holidays of the Celtic Year. The Celtics called this day Alban Eiler.

In my time zone, the sun at this time of year comes up about 8:00 am and sets about 8:00 pm. Here in America we switched over to Daylight Savings Time a week ago today. It is lovely to have light late into the evening, but it is so hard to get up in the morning.

I had gotten used to - and had been happily - rising in daylight, but after the time change I found myself out of sorts all week. Many people say this feeling is because of the loss of one hour as we spring forward, but that is nonsense. It's the loss of light in the morning that throws us for a loop.

Paulina Stuckey-Cassidy

The Christian Easter holiday is derived from the pagan holiday Eostre or Ostara, as can easily been by the name. Many times, Ostara and Easter occur relatively close to each other, but this year it is not the case, as Easter will take place on April 24, almost the latest date it can occur. Easter is a moveable feast, meaning it is tied to the lunar calendar rather than a specific date - and can occur as early as March 22 or as late as April 25. Therefore, I tried to avoid using images that featured goddesses holding baskets of Easter eggs!

So here are my 2011 Ostara/Eostre paintings/images. I am sorry that so many are unattributed. I try hard to attribute all paintings I find on the web, but I find many on what I call "secondary sites", those which have already "borrowed" the paintings/images and not bothered to credit the artist.

"READING ABOUT EOSTRA" by Trudi Doyle

Incidentally, I recently received a very formal e-mail from an artist whose work I had used once. She had the absolute gall to send me a CONTRACT which would enable me to show her work on my site. Of course, I would have had to pay a healthy fee to do so. What nerve! I promptly removed her image from that particular post and will never, ever use her again.

I have actually received e-mails from a few wonderful Celtic fantasy artists who are so thrilled that I use their art. I even devote entire posts to my most-admired artists. As often as I can, I include their website, although this is not really necessary, given that any reader can Google an artist's name and easily find their website. I find that most artists are truly thrilled and pleased to learn that I have given their work a wider audience. Not that I am a very widely-read blogger, but every little bit of publicity helps an artist sell his or her work, right?

(Note added April 9: I received an e-mail comment from Trudi Doyle, the artist whose painting is shown above. She asked me if I would mind adding a link to the print of this painting, which is for sale in her Etsy shop. Trudi, I'd be delighted to! Here's the link: http://www.etsy.com/listing/63497712/art-print-reading-about)

"SPRING EQUINOX" by Holly Zollinger

I also make it a practice to purchase prints or cards by these artists. For example, I found the work above on Etsy today. Although I am too late for the holiday this year, these would make great gifts for next spring equinox.

Artist Unknown

It is not truly spring here, although it is trying to be. March came in like a lion. The frigid Arctic air and fierce Alberta Clippers were unwilling to give up their hold over the state well into the middle of the month. Finally this week we have experience a slow melt. A slow melt is good for flood-weary ND folk who endured some really terrible flooding just two years ago in 2009. Even Bismarck, usually flood-free because of the Garrison Dam, had flooding problems that year in the southwest portion of the city because of a massive local ice jam.

Artist Unknown

March can be a very deadly and serious month for weather problems in ND. A week ago Friday, a terrifying late spring blizzard sprang up with very little warning and closed down virtually all highways in the state. About 800 people were stranded on the roads during this vicious storm, including state highway troopers and one pregnant woman who feared she had gone into labor. Fortunately, ALL were rescued, with only minor injuries. This is almost a miracle.

The next day, newspapers carried stories of the notorious blizzard of The Ides of March, March 15, 1941, in which many people lost their lives. The trouble with these late wubter blizzards is that the day starts out just fine. People, fooled by the mild weather, would travel to town and then be caught in a tempest on their way home. Such was last Friday's blizzard. As I drove to work that morning, it was mild and featured blue skies. By 10:00 am it was snowing and by 3:00 pm they sent us home, with the Interstate highways already closed off.

"GODDESS OF SPRING" by Alayna

Today, the streets are clear and the gutters are running with water. Our massive snowbanks are shrinking, but they are dirty, covered with sand and black dirt. All the detritus of winter has now been revealed - loose papers, pop cans and bottles, stray shoes (how do people lose one shoe?), etc. It is truly quite ugly, but even so, we are not as depressed as we were in the frigid, seemingly endless days of winter.

"OSTARA FAY" by Jenna Prosverina

I have blogging friends in the Southern US and in England. I read their blogs with pure envy. WE don't have blooming daffodils, primroses and crocus. Our willow catkins won't be out for another month. Our fruit trees won't bloom until May. Our grass is dead and brown. But now, we have HOPE, hope that spring will indeed come as it has for millenia, just when we began to despair that it ever would come again.

"OSTARA" by Nicole Samlinski

I love this Ostara painting which features a full moon. Did you see last night's supermoon, in which the moon was closer to earth than it was in the last 18 years? (The last full moon so big and close to Earth occurred in March of 1993.) Supposedly it was a full moon of rare size and beauty, but because of cloud cover we were not able to see it.

Full moons vary in size because of the oval shape of the moon's orbit. It is an ellipse with one side (perigee) about 50,000 km closer to Earth than the other (apogee). Nearby perigee moons are about 14% bigger and 30% brighter than lesser moons that occur on the apogee side of its orbit.

Well, we still have tonight, when to my unscientific eye the moon will still appear full on this, the spring equinox. Will it still be a supermoon? I don't know, but I do hope to see it. It will add to celebration of spring arrived at long last.

HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S - NO, HAPPY ERIU DAY!

"ERIU" by Nicole Cadet

Happy St. Patrick's Day! Erm - let's make that Happy Ériu Day instead. I like honoring an ancient Celtic goddess more than an upstart Catholic saint on this, Ireland's day.

The names Ériu, Éire and Erin for Ireland are national personifications -  or anthropomorphizations - of a nation. In Ireland's case, they are all feminine, although this is not always true. (England has John Bull and the U. S. has Uncle Sam). However, they are all well-recognized symbols or emblems of a country.

In Celtic mythology, Ériu was the matron goddess of Ireland. (The modern name for Ireland comes from the name Ériu and the word "land".)

With her sisters, Banba and Fódla, Ériu was part of an important triumvirate of goddesses of sovereignty. She was one of the queens of Ireland when the Milesians from Galicia invaded. All three sisters made deals with the Milesians that their names would be given to the defeated country. This was granted to them, although Ériu/Éire became the chief name in use (Banba and Fódla are still sometimes used as poetic names for Ireland.)

"KATHLEEN NI HOULIHAN", Sir John Lavery, 1923

Another, more modern and more political personification of Ireland is Cathleen (or Kathleen) Ni Houlihan, a symbol of Irish patriotism (especially of an independent and separate Irish state). During times of trouble, especially war, Cathleen walks across Ireland to gather the support of men and boys to aid her in battle. As she gathers her supporters, she has the appearance of an old woman. Yet when she has gained her followers, she takes the shape of a fresh, high-spirited young woman.

The help of young Irish men willing to fight and die to free Ireland from the tyranny of colonial rule often resulted in the men becoming martyrs for this cause. However, their deaths were not be looked upon as tragic or needless, because they died as heroes and they will always be remembered as giving their life's blood to Ireland.

The great Irish poet and playwright William Butler Yeats, along with Lady Augusta Gregory, wrote a famous eponymous play about Cathleen Ni Houlihan - who is also sometimes called the Old Woman or Mother Ireland - in 1902.

It is set in a peasant cottage in the Irish village of Killala on August 22, 1798, the place and date where French troops landed to support the United Irishmen's revolution against England. Indicative of the symbiotic relationship between literature and politics, the play was performed just before the famous 1916 Irish Easter Rising against the English.

Here is the script of the play: http://cathleen-ni-houlihan.blogspot.com/

TOP 30 CELTIC CULTURE BLOGS



"MOTHER NATURE" (Artist Unknown)

I recently received an e-mail from a fellow named Tim Dalton informing me that he had included my blog in a compilation on his website called “Tales from the Past and Dreams for the Future: The Top 30 Celtic Culture Blogs” (link at the end of the post).

On his site, he writes: "Whether you have Celtic ancestry, or you are Irish on March 17th (like everyone else in the world!), these top 30 Celtic Culture blogs will surely keep you entertained. These bloggers have done a great job expressing the beautiful history, sites, and sounds of Celtic traditions."

Dalton's list covers three areas of Celtic blogging: Celtic Music, Irish American and Regional Irish Groups, and Celtic Ancestry. My blog is listed under the third area. Of this category, Dalton writes: "These blogs cover all of the basics and beyond of Celtic History. Not to be missed!"

"MEMORIES OF THE KING", Nicole Cadet



He also give a brief description of each blog. Of mine, he writes, "This Celtic Lady has a pretty blog that explores everything from art to cats. With her Celtic roots, she does a great job touching on basic to intricate Celtic topics."

I find myself to be quite flattered but not entirely believing he listed the right blog, because I don't think I've ever written about cats. I've posted artwork featuring black cats around Halloween, but that's about it. However, I'll just say "Thanks, Tim, for the nod!"

The listing brings to mind my custom of the past couple of years to write about "All Things Irish" during March. It's no secret that I've been in a blogging slump lately. The world always closes in around me at this time of year and this winter is no exception. As I wrote once, like Persephone I seem to descend into the Underworld during the winter, only to emerge into light and life in April.

In "The Wasteland", T. S. Eliot wrote that "April is the cruellest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land". I disagree. Because it is my month of re-birth, I love April! But ever since 2008, February has been the month for cruelty toward me and mine. In the past few Februaries I have lost a job, had a devastating car accident, had a car die on me, wrenched my knee so that I couldn't walk for the entire month, etc.

 "FAOLAN, ANA AND DRUSTAN", by Denise Elizabeth Smith

This February is no exception. My latest car had a run in with a light pole as a consequence of my being stuck in a snowbank in our driveway. The winds blow frigidly from the Arctic. I have a very hateful and cruel co-worker who sits nearly on top of me because the two of us are packed like sardines in a "not even proper cubicle" meant for one person. I've been data entering information about all kinds of nasty diseases to the point where I've almost become a germophobe. And we have had scary news that I can't talk about yet.

I was only spared from February's wrath last year, when I didn't work and kept myself immersed in books. By cocooning at home and staying out of her way, I was spared February's "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" aimed right at me.

It's no wonder that I started my Celtic research during winter, in the February of 2009. It was pure escapism for me, to learn about a group of people who were so close to nature, as I had been as a child. A group who believed in magical and mystical things, unearthly things. A group who believed - so unlike us moderns - that the afterlife is just an extention of our earthly life. 

"AVALON" by Mary Layton

It's no wonder that I'd like to be taken out of a world of Alberta Clippers, subzero temperatures, nasty people, flesh- and bowel-eating bacteria, broken cars and worries and woes, and enter into a world of sacred groves and misty lakes, gatherings of enchanted souls, fiery gods and goddesses, beautiful queens and valiant heroes, Druids and dryads, the lands of Avalon and Tír na nÓg, pookas and sprites, selkies and the fae, moon dancing and hidden portals.

Yes, it's definitely time - past time - to start thinking of All Things Irish - nay, All Things Celtic - for my March posts.

Here's the link to Tim Dalton's site:

http://theologydegreesonline.com/tales-from-the-past-and-dreams-for-the-future-the-top-30-celtic-culture-blogs/

"THE WAY INTO THE WOODS", Angela Jayne Barnett

CHEAP THRILLS

"Bridget", artist uncredited

 

Today, Feb. 2, is celebrated as Groundhog Day in the US. To Catholics, it is Candlemas, or St. Bridget's Day. To the ancient Celts, it was Imbolc, one of the eight major holidays of the year and a day to celebrate the Goddess Brighid (Brigid).

Fire is one of the symbols of this goddess, whom I have written about several times (just check out my Feb. 2 posts the past few years).

"Brighid" by Shattered Dreams on deviantart.net

However, here in North Dakota, ice, not fire, is a much more likely symbol for Feb. 2.  And any groundhogs we have around here would be way stupid to come out of their burrows. So what does one do on an early morning when the temperature is -23 degrees F, the coldest day of winter so far?

THIS!!!:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zFj_i6HtebM

That is what happens when you throw boiling water into frigid air. Way cool, huh? (This image is from the Internet - filmed in Saskatchewan at -40 C - but our result was very much the same.)

A bunch of us gathered shortly after 8 this morning in the little atrium of the building in which we work while one brave soul dashed outside and threw a cup of boiling water into the air. (Actually, it had cooled off a bit from boiling, since it had to be brought from the kitchen.)

Apparently, ice crystals are formed when you do this, but to me it looked like snow, and it was brilliant against the clear blue sky. Someone called it "the essence of cloud." I have to say, it made my day!! I can't believe I have lived in North Dakota all my life and never knew about it.

According to Joe Larsen, a Ph.D. in chemistry at Rockwell Science Center in Los Angeles, CA, some people claim that hot water freezes faster than cold water. "This happens because the hot water is so close to being steam, that the act of throwing it into the air causes it to break up into tiny droplets. (Hot water is less viscous than cold water - listen to the sound it makes when you pour it in the sink.) The small water droplets have a large surface area which allows for a great deal of evaporation; this removes heat quickly. And finally, the cooled droplets are so small, that they can be easily frozen by the winter air. All of this happens before the water hits the ground. Cold water is thicker and stickier; it doesn't break up into such small pieces when thrown into the air, so it comes down in large blobs."

So much for scientific theory. To me it was just plain fun and it might just be the way I celebrate Groundhog Day/St. Brigit's Day/Goddess Brighid's Day from now on.


So Happy Cheap Thrills Day to you.

And no matter what Groundhog Phil saw in Punxatawney this morning, there will be 10 more weeks of winter here in North Dakota. Oh, joy.

"S. Bridget", artist uncredited

There are so many beautiful images of Brighid/Bridget on the Internet and I have used a lot of them my previous Imbolc posts. Here are the links:

2008: http://celticanamcara.blogspot.com/2008/02/imbolc.html

2009 (two posts): http://celticanamcara.blogspot.com/2009/02/artist-unknown-aine-of-celts-here-on.html and
http://celticanamcara.blogspot.com/2009/02/images-of-imbolic.html

And 2010: http://celticanamcara.blogspot.com/2010/02/candlemas-imbolic-st-brigids-day.html

"Brigid", artist uncredited



A LONG ABSENCE

"MARGUERITE" by Guy Rose

I knew I had neglected my blog for far too long when I discovered today that I still had a Christmas banner atop the blog even though it has been 35 days since Christmas; and also - and more importantly - I have been receiving e-mail messages from blogging friends ranging from "What are you up to?" to - basically - "Are you still alive?"

Yes, I am alive and well. My excuse is that I have been employed since November 1 at a temporary job where I have to pound away on the keyboard and stare at the computer screen for eight solid hours a day. When I get home from work I don't even want to look at a computer. Plus, my computer sits in my living room beneath the window that holds the air conditioner, which means that freezing air flows in around the cracks and crevices, making the space quite uncomfortable.

It is so ironic to me that I finally have been working but it's been during the three darkest, coldest months of the year when I suffer so badly from Seasonal Affective Disorder. I was originally hired to work in November and December, but so far my employers have extended the position twice - first through January and then through February. As they have for the past two months, they will evaluate the position in mid-February and may extend the job even longer.

My employers are very appreciative of my efforts, which makes the frigid, dark morning "commutes" worthwhile (they are located at the east edge of the city). Not to mention the money I have been earning! And I have discovered that the 6th Street Tesoro gas station/convenience store has flavored cappuccino for only $1.42 (as opposed to Starbuck's at about $4.00 a pop.) I am quite happy tootling down the frozen streets grasping a warm mocha or almond amaretto in my hand.

I even neglected to mark my 4th anniversary of blogging, on Jan. 20. I would have gotten the date wrong anyway, as I thought it was Jan. 24! Clearly, my passion for blogging has flagged, as you will see by the statistics:  254 posts in 2007, 89 posts in 2008, 88 posts in 2009, and only 41 posts in 2010.

Have I said everything I wanted to say in the last four years? Did I get lost somewhere in my efforts to find my Celtic roots? I do know that even before I suspended blogging I had removed my "self" from my blogs, and I deeply regret that. I want to return to blogging in 2011, but am not sure quite how to proceed. It still amazes me that I continue to garner followers (197 as of today) when I haven't even been blogging for awhile.

Apparently, I am doing something right, but it still doesn't feel right to me. I am striving to find a balance in posting that exists somewhere between the actual, real, humdrum me living in Bismarck, ND in 2011, and the fey spirit who resides deep within me.

You may wonder at my choice of illustration for this post. As I did not do a year-end post, I did not have a chance to mention that I read over 200 books during 2010!! At the start of the year, I made it a point to write down every book I had read (something I had never done before). By July, having read a lot of books and having only worked during the month of May, I realized that it was quite possible to reach the goal of 200 books for the year. I never consciously chose short books, just books I really wanted to read, and in the end only a couple of books I read could be described as being on the short side.

I do admit that after I started my job in November, I read fewer books, and December especially was a challenge for me - what with it being bitterly cold and dark and with working, Christmas preparations and spending time with out daughter when she was home, I really "hit the wall", but I did muddle through and ultimately read 201 books in 2010!~

This winter, I will be devoting myself to reading the books in my TBR (to be read) pile that are the giant juicy books I have been hanging onto just for this purpose.

I hope to retire sometime in 2011. My 62nd birthday is in June, but if things work out as we plan, my retirement will be a lot sooner. Until that time, I will be trying to decide which blogging path to take.

YULE TIDE

"HOLLY KING AND IVY QUEEN" by Wendy Andrews

I thought I'd post my Yule, or Winter Solstice, post today instead of tomorrow, because of a very rare celestial event that will happen after midnight tonight where I live.

For the first time in 372 years, the winter equinox and a total lunar eclipse are happening on the same day. The last time this occurred was in 1638. Imagine that! What a different world those eclipse viewers lived in! And this is only the second occurrence in 2000 years.

The start of the total eclipse for Central Standard Time is 1:40 a.m. and the time of greatest eclipse is at 2:17 a.m. At this point, the moon should appear as a coppery red.

To top it off the spectacle, the Ursid meteor shower will be peaking. Look near Ursa Major (the Big Dipper) for this display which will produce about 10-15 meteors per hour. It isn't necessarily a spectacular show as far as numbers are concerned but is known for producing bright meteors because they are somewhat larger.

Unfortunately, I probably won't be able to see any of this. We had five more inches of snow today, with promises of cloudy skies and flurries throughout the night.

So as consolation for me and anyone else who can't see the heavens tonight, here are some Yule/Solstice images and poems:

"WINTER MAGIC" by  Julia Jeffrey

"And so the shortest day came and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive,
And when the new year’s sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, reveling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us - Listen!!
All the long echoes sing the same delight,
This shortest day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, fest, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.
Welcome Yule."

"The Shortest Day"  ~ Susan Cooper

Yule Card by Lucete

"Cinnamon, gingerbread, nutmeg yule
Pine-scented log, our winter fuel.
Oranges, nuts and mulling spice,
Holly and Ivy greenery twice.
Fires and family snuggled tight
together and loving this longest of night.
Frost and snow twinkle without,
faces of love contain little doubt.
Holding these friends and family close,
with love and care in equal dose.
So now upon this magical night
Warm within watching starlight.
Spices rare and incense burns
celebrate with joy a world that turns."

"YULE GODDESS" by Angela Jayne Barnett

"Solstice fires burn bright as newborn stars
shedding warmth where frost - wolf's icy breath
silvers streams, kisses each leafless branch,
making the eternal mother yield.
Frosted buds glitter like frozen tears
as nature mourns the mother's little death;
dark demons spread a heavy shroud to blanch
colour from the woodland, heath and field.

But of each thing a little spark, preserved
and tended by the ones who serve the flame
survives to light embryo season's birth,
'til life returns one more, vibrant and green.
Reaching higher each day the pale sun curves,
not strong enough to set the sky aflame.
So while nature languishes in dearth,
this darkest night the solstice fires burn."

"Solstice Fires" ~ Ian R Thorpe

("Frost -wolf" is a reference to the names of the full moons. The wolf moon is the last full moon of the pagan year and so its "icy breath" is the air during the long nights around solstice.)



"THE ETERNAL STRUGGLE" by Angela Jayne Barnett

(between the Oak King and the Holly King)

(At the winter solstice, the Oak King defeats the Holly King and rules for the next half of the year - until Midsummer's Day.)

"Time of deepest darkness
The God is born anew
Seedling in the frozen earth
Awaiting springtime dew.

The ground, an icy wasteland,
Though neighbors hearts are warm
We share our goods with everyone
So no one comes to harm.

Snow lies on her shoulders
Frosted mantle for her hair
Winter's Queen is giving birth
The Goddess, always there.

The sun is growing brighter.
It happens every year
Promising return of light
For sod and oak and deer.

Stag King, his mighty antlers
Rising from a drift
Leaps for the hunter's arrow
Just as strong and swift.
He knows his time has ended

He is heading to the plain
Where joy caresses memory
Like softly summer rain.

New fawn takes his first step,
The buck he will become.
After the time of knowing
A new year has begun."

"Aspects of Yule" ~ author unknown

"YULE SNOW QUEEN" by Octavia Cheetham

"Before going to bed
After a fall of snow
I look out on the field
Shining there in the moonlight
So calm, untouched and white
Snow silence fills my head
After I leave the window.

Hours later near dawn
When I look down again
The whole landscape has changed
The perfect surface gone
Criss-crossed and written on
Where the wild creatures ranged
While the moon rose and shone.

Why did my dog not bark?
Why did I hear no sound
There on the snow-locked ground
In the tumultuous dark?

How much can come, how much can go
When the December moon is bright,
What worlds of play we'll never know
Sleeping away the cold white night
After a fall of snow."

"December Moon" ~ May Sarton

WINTER GIFT, CHRISTMAS SPIRIT



"WINTER GIFT" by Julia Helen Jeffrey

*********

I am the Christmas Spirit

That comes with the end of December:

A winter solstice spell, perhaps,

When people forget to remember –

The drab realities of fact,

The cherished hurt of ancient wrongs,

The lonely comfort of being deaf

To human sighs and angel’s songs.

Suddenly, they lose their minds

To heart’s demands and beauty’s grace;

And deeds extravagant with love

Give glory to the common place.

--Anthony F. Perrino