…rites of spring…

elderflowers…elder, rowan and hawthorn scent the air with honey; all manner of fruit blossoms add their edge to the fragrance of an early morning in the highlands  …spring …overcast and stormy, the magpie are singing their warbling song of joy at the arrival of scrawny, long-legged babies, awkward in their lanky scramble for food …it doesn’t matter if it’s their own parent or another’s …any port in a storm for a worm or two… frogs are singing the rain with their distinctive “pobble bonk” sound…

…after some time away to play, life ramps up for the coming growing season on the farm hawthornflower…my writing takes equal priority as the first 2 books go to press release very soon …love working with live people rather than electronically publishing; the support from the team is amazing …not long now and then the new editions will be available and then my focus will be on the completion of 4 and 5…

…spring rites are a wonderful creative time as my own muse matches that of wildly bursting nature …I am always stimulated by imagery and now the canvas of the changing season is most inspiring …new works emerge from my psyche and so a new series will be born once the first is completed and will be entitled Cloak of Magick (title copyright © 2013) in fact it’s already begun…

rowanflower…green and white dominate the landscape and the bees are getting busy when the rain lets up …already apple, pear, hazel nut, cherries and plum fruit are set and then tinges of red will appear in the first cherries and the rhubarb stems …no wonder the threes colours of spring growth are the same as the garlands and wreaths made for the Beltane rite just passed …a prelude to Litha, Summer Solstice, just around the corner…

…I feel with all my senses at this time of year as the air softens with spring rain and the sap rises in all growing things …I love to listen to the sound of new leaves rustling or to the subtle ‘pop’ as a bud bursts open in coloured, fragrant wonder …at dawn there is a moment of utter stillness when clarity of sight, smell, taste and hearing merge into one faculty; you can taste the air, see it tremble as a drop of water on a curled frond of bracken and hear the thirsty suck as the earth welcomes every living drop …be still, listen …listen for the sound of a horn, distant and haunting, calling you to drop all pretence of adulthood to come to the dance …this is the time of year for the young and for the young at heart …dare to dream …drink it in …listen

…hear the winds calling a sultry refrain

…He’s out and about …the prelude to Beltane

…He can be heard in the rustling of leaves

…sending playful reminders that tug at your sleeves

…He says

…I am the essence that lives …all unseen

…I am the memory of all that is green

…take up the mantle of earth’s greening time

…smell the wild’s fragrance like fresh summer wine

…come to your circle in Hawthorn arrayed

…I’ll meet you in the Greenwood where my music is made…


…art work from tarot of the Hidden Realm by Julia Jeffrey & Barbara Moore

…blessings from Beyond the Gate …Penny


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