In our woods the snow is hanging on and the sap is slow to rise in the trees. The deer have grown less cautious, especially the young ones.
Friday evening we sat down with friends for ceremony, food, and great conversation in which the stories were flying thick and fast. As fit the equinox, many were laugh inducing tales of balance lost, and only sometimes found. Anyway, although the weather remains terribly cold, the evening sped all of us on our way towards summer.
Here is a report from Harvesting Hectate about the season’s progress in her heart and woods.
When I leave the forest, part of me stays there: the part of me that is like the deer, slipping silently through the trees, glimpsed if you’re lucky. The deer are usually elusive here, but when we arrive, a doe is nonchalantly grazing a few metres away in the early evening glow of the sunset. For four days, deer grace us with their presence at dawn and dusk, their cotton fluff tails like beacons in the half-light.
Before the equinox, it’s not uncommon for life to seem chaotic as nature fights for balance. And for me, events conspired to enforce an unexpected pause from blogging: a virus that gave me blurred vision, dizziness, nausea and fatigue; a bereavement and family illness. There were stories to be written, pictures to be painted, blogs to be read, but I found I couldn’t act. I followed the spiral down, deep into the doubt…
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