Re-posted from Devotions for Rhiannon
Apples shed into the shade of the tree
Such is the season’s trade
Between sunshine and shadow
Cast across light’s pellucid glow
As the Grey Mare passes, September’s spent
Fruit grounded in October’s
Splendour, her reins passed over
To crooked fingers of Elder Mother.
Working in the garden today. Spiders in webs everywhere gleaming in the soft, clear light of summer moving into autumn, including this splendid orb weaver (Araneus diadematus) hoping to catch some of the many small insects still on the wing.
Mayday, but not time just yet to honour her coming
From the Otherworld – Rhiannon on a pale white horse
Evanescing like a glimpse of a first leaf in twilight – there
Then not there – as shadows rise and fall at the edge
Of the wood. I’ll wait for another turn of the Moon,
A new crescent, for a sign of her season; for leaves
Burgeoning bringing green light to the hawthorn,
And then blossom. So I will bright her horse,
With a new coat of whiteness to welcome her:
A new shrine for her coming when summer breezes
Dance in the leaves as her horse slows to turn
And she reigns to be among us once again.
Even before the snow came, the offering cup was frozen in Mererid’s fountain and encased in ice. In the bright, clear days of last week the solar cell had caught enough sunlight to work the pump which I had removed before Midwinter but replaced after Imbolc. Water flowed from under the ice and poured down to melt the frozen layer on the surface of the water. Now it is all frozen solid and I’m not sure if it is irreparably damaged and won’t know until it thaws. Some early blooms that had appeared as heralds of Spring have been laid low or shivered by the frost. So February ended.
Up until now the snow cover here on the west coast has been light and the sub-zero temperatures not so low as just a few miles inland on the mountains. But tonight we are getting a blizzard as winds whip in snow for a white-out as the rain-laden air of Storm Emma from the Atlantic collides with the colder air that has been pressing on Britain from the East for the last week or so.
The Frost Giants stand their ground
As West Wind calls the tune
This is a tale that the gods will tell
In the snow light of a March Full Moon.
There are two Full Moons this month. Between one and the other the Spring may find a way out of Winter.