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Category — Summer Solstice

In the Peak of Now

I have been waiting for summer to come for a whole long while. All winter and all springtime in fact. And I have been grumpy that I still seem to be waiting.

This morning I decided to ditch my iPod on my morning dog walk and listen to the birds instead. Walking through our local nature reserve cemetery I saw that the lime flowers are nearly ready for harvesting, that the white campion is fat and lovely, that sweet woodruffe is covered in little star shaped flowers already. This is it, this is summer. Elderflower cordial is waiting to be made.

In a week that I have been swimming in the atlantic and thinking about thresholds, I have also realised that sometimes I miss that moment, that absolute moment that is the peak, the highest point. The peak of now. I only realise I have had it, as it is slipping away.

My midsummer came with a wild and windy beacon lighting in a pagan land; with cocktails and a swing bench party with special friends. I have watched and loved gannets plummeting into the ocean, and stepped into a faery land with pirates and elfin boots hidden in treasure chests. All this was real. And now it has slipped back in magical mists, and I am home, with emails, washing, work schedules, and pink peace scarf to organise. It went as quickly as it came.

So how is it that we stay with our peaks, trying not to hold on tightly, but just being in them? By loving them for what they are in any moment I guess. Without trying to move them on, rush them, or make them last forever. For a few moments there was summer, a coastal path, a girl walking along it. So fleeting, but so deeply rooted in me also.

I have blown a kiss to the summer, she is here, with or without sunshine and warmth, and I love her. My garden is wild and overgrown, my heart is happy, my body tired, and my head trying to deal with change. This is my peak of now, and as much as I can, I will sit with it, without trying to change it or move it on. This it will do all by itself, quietly, when I least expect it. Midsummer love to you all.

June 27, 2013   1 Comment

Candles, tapas, cocktails, friends

Solstice Supper a la communite….

Candles, birthdays, tapas, cocktails, our community band – The Strange Objects (and believe me, they keep getting stranger), and wild flowers crammed into jam jars…… Midsummer, we love you!!

June 26, 2011   No Comments

Many hands and flowers

Ah, such an evening of loveliness for the Midsummer Solstice – as I went a witching to Kesty’s wood with many other fire sisters. A magical evening making a prayer on the earth with summer flowers, and of course my oak and holly leaves gathered earlier.

We sang songs, painted flames and spirals on our skin, shared stories, blessed our sister journeys, be they joyful, stormy or sad. We watched a big Solstice sun set in a stormy sky over the valley, hearts beating to a drum. White sage smoke whisped lazily around us and up into the trees. Some sat in the Red Hearth house, a Sacred and beautiful space in a bender decorated to honour women’s bleeding, while others sang into the night, lighting candles in jam jars.

We shared food, in the candlelight, and sat around a fire, woodsmoking our colourful skirts and blankets until we smelled delicious! We plotted and dreamed, laughed at exploding elderflower champagne, and sighed over the naughtiest rhubarb cake you are ever likely to taste. I loved it that some women knew each other, some boldly came knowing no one. Everyone was loved.

A big firey gratitude to lovely sisters anywhere and everywhere, celebrating the sun and our power. Be it by lighting candles, drumming wildly, sending out quiet prayers, tending families, jobs and adventures. And ho! to the darkness and rest that will (eventually!) return.

June 22, 2011   14 Comments