Category — Samhain
Beautiful and quiet week, catching up on sleep, knitting, having lovely food cooked for me. The beginnings of mellow winter sunlight, crab apples, pumpkins, rosehip and birch. Feeling a sadness for this last visit this year to my ocean of the east, and a rightness in getting myself ready for the rich, dark dreaming time that Samhain ushers in. Wishing you all the most gentle of late autumn time, may all changes be for the good.
November 1, 2013 No Comments
I am back from my dear Norfolk ocean and place of quietness…straight in to full on teenagers, Halloween happenings, yarn episodes and all sorts of hit-the-ground running shenanigans…..quite enough to turn my hair grey…or pink (thank you oh wondrous Lily, friend of teenage daughter)
But I am skipping ahead…that was the end of my mad week. No, it started innocently enough on Monday, at three minutes before bedtime (my bedtime that is, my kids are often lawless in the land of nod) – with a ‘mum, I need a Halloween costume IMMEDIATELY and so what I need you to do is wrap me tightly in cling film, and then cover me with yellow duct tape’. Of course you do.
Now, this was turning out to be some horrific 50 Shades of Yellow b-movie, but it ended reasonably well, all things considered, and really quite sculptural (it’s a Pikachu outfit in case you were wondering. I wasn’t, at 10.53pm)
The middle of the week was intense, and soul searching, with dear land and ocean sisters holding me gently (I love you)…including witchery in the woods, talking around a fire, talking over the phone, and even a pumpkin soup picnic.
….a very perfect antidote to all the sugar and adrenaline that was steamrollering our way.
There has been trick or treating, lighting of ancestor candles, and even the excitement of Stroud’s first yarn bomb…woohooo….
and all the while the season turns colour quietly and steadily
A world away from my salt marsh and herons, this is another kind of life-living – a good kind, but crazy kind. It is all part of the soup that makes up my world I guess. The trick is to give in to the flow of it, I’ve decided. Surrender to busyness, but remembering to breathe. Don your best stripy tights, let teenagers organise your hair, love it, and live it.
Until next time, this is Jaine Rose, queen of pink and perky, (and sometimes much weeping) signing off.
November 5, 2012 3 Comments
We are here for one last time this year…always the sweetest trip, saying goodbye to my Ocean of the East for another season. Here is a little patchwork then of our days….who am I trying to kid? It is a stupidly HUGE patchwork….honestly people…stop me. Before I have someone’s eye out. It’s just that there is so much colour and sea fog, and autumn leaves, and oh…oh….
:: Skulking around Morston harbour, on the look out for crabs, and being wildly distracted by boats :: the gentlest of sea fogs comes down and enfolds us in grey quietness :: walking deserted beaches and silent creeks :: splashes of burnt orange and reds in my winter hat, sea buckthorn and more boats (all planned to match of course) :: woodlands full to bursting with fungi, with all the damp and wet we’ve been having :: a very big treat of homemade gluten free bread and raspberry jam (thank you Bad Jo and Gari) :: falling in love for the hundredth time with autumn birches (I am a Birch Sister, it is official) :: swishing through leaves in late afternoon light :: beach huts at Wells (I noticed one for sale with Sowerbys) :: enjoying sweet chestnut trees, not so many where I live :: beautiful cobwebs making me feel very witchy in a magic sort of way :: the pink wellies of all happiness :: harbour yellows :: seasons turning :: lots of woolly thinking, a gynormous plan emerges……
October 25, 2012 4 Comments
After fizzing off into outer space with all the excitement and glory of last week’s demo, it seemed that I was ready for something a little more kitchen table based, and intricate, grounding.
O.k, I know that a mad, sparkly handicraft workshop for a bunch of teenage girls doesn’t sound exactly restful, but it brought me home again, and landed me right back in the moment.
Do you remember a while back that I told you about our Red Hearth – a magical, local space where us witchy, earthy women meet all summer long? Well, it is also a space where young girls gather and giggle – they are called ‘Moon Sisters’. More recently our teenage girls have been learning how it is to talk in circle, support each other, celebrate….and of course…apply a mass of sparkle and glitter wherever possible. Which is where I came in.
It was a real blast seeing the creativity oozing out of these fab girls…and all the different things they did with my box of sequins, beads and batik. Things I could only dream of frankly….how is it that young people are so uninhibited and free, colourful and wild? I watched them closely and learned much.
So after landing, I journeyed back to the Red Hearth on Monday, for lunar Samahain. This is a very special time for us witches – it is a time to honour ancestors, wise ones who have gone before us. It is a time to welcome in the winter, and know that rest and quietness is coming. For me, it is a chance to sit and look at my life, and let die what needs to die. Breathe. Let go. Surrender.
And so the fire was lit, the songs sung, the cake shared, and the talking stick (stone) passed around once more this year, as witness to our precious journeys.
After which the quiet work of getting our roundhouse ready for winter begun, singing all the while: ‘the earth, the air, the fire, the water, return, return, return, return’…….
We had older hands, mother hands and best of all, young baby hands, who will someday become ‘moon daughters’ and until that time will shake rattles, squabble over hazel sticks, and fill the hearth with their loud toddler happiness and spontaneity – all great background music to our autumn ears.
Carpets were shaken out, a summer’s worth of stories and singing tumbling out with the dust…and underneath we found a lost talking stone, a shell fossil from when this land was covered by ocean, that had been hiding all this time, quietly listening and watching. I am to be its guardian over the winter, and will return it in the springtime.
Pathways were trod one last time, arms laden with blankets, sheepskins, cushions and colourful fabrics, all returned inside for safekeeping.
So Samhain blessings on all that is seen, all that is unseen, all that is. May rest find you, gentleness enfold you. May the darkness bring endings, and the return of all good things. Blessed be.
October 16, 2012 2 Comments