YB Falls

Drove 2 hours, into torrential rain, to meet our friends for an adventure this past weekend. When we arrived, it was thunderstorming but we decided that since we'd packed up all the kids and made the trek we'd wait and see if they'd bugger off.

Luckily, they did! And we made a muggy late afternoon trek to this gorgeous waterfall. The kids stripped down and we all made our way carefully over the big rocks and into the shallow pools at the very base of the falls. Once up there, the kids splashed and the grownups climbed around a bit.

We've been trying to make more of an effort to document the grown ups while we're out, since 90% of our collective photos are of the kids. Good thing too, or this glory may not have been captured! Hehe.

That's me in the middle. I shaved off half of my hair since the hike I posted about the other day. ;)

Merry Solstice!

The fancy altars of a few years back are dusty and unkempt; places where rocks, sticks, feathers, and lint from pockets stuffed during adventures are emptied. And honestly, I'm ok with it.

I wasn't for a long time, but now. Fuck it. Being a witch isn't about being fancy, despite the instagram hype.

Today's celebrations included a stroll through a mountain forest and admiring the resiliency and speed of its growth after a forest fire a few years ago. We splashed in the cold water at the foot of a waterfall. I plucked some tobacco horn worms off of the tomatoes in my garden that seem bound and determined to put me through the ringer this year; first with high humidity making them attempt to root 2 feet in the air, then with the black spots of early blight, now caterpillars.

I haven't pulled anything out for dinner yet, but I'm thinking some grilled chicken along with zucchini from the garden will suffice. We'll stay up late to enjoy the fullest of sunshiney days, leave some wine and shiny things out for the fae. I may or may not find my way into my sketchbook; more likely I'll find my way into my bed with a book.

However you choose to celebrate today, or not, Summer Blessings to you and yours. <3

Fireflies

I've had all these things I've wanted to write about lately, but of course as I sit down *poof* my mind's like, "ideas? What ideas?"

Guess I should start a page in my bullet journal where I can scribble them down and not forget in the future.

Anywho, it's been a busy bit of life, but in the best possible ways. We've been having lots of adventures big and small as a family and with our friends. Acorn keeps getting bigger and bigger... he'll be 5 next month. 5! I don't know how the fuck that got here so quickly; I feel like I blinked and here we are.

As I've done every Summer since I was pregnant with the aforementioned Acorn 5 years ago, I've been out watching the fireflies put on their nightly magic. This year my watching has been joined by the enthusiastic giggles of my bug loving son as he runs through our yard scooping bits of light into his still chubby fingers.

We took a trip a few weeks ago to see the blue ghost fireflies that live in North Carolina. They were not as vibrant or plentiful as the photos we'd seen, but there was a definite serene sort of magic to them.

Our friends and us had gathered at a lake inside a state park to watch the sun go down and wait for the bugs to come out. The dads were skipping rocks, the kids were running back and forth through fields and onto the docks, and us mommas hiked around the trails a bit to see where we'd walk when it got dark. Bullfrogs were calling and crickets were chirping. I caught a toad that immediately peed all over me, It was the most perfect early Summer evening, really.

As darkness crept in, we saw the occasional flashes of yellow in the grasses but nothing blue. We waited a bit longer and then walked the deeper wooded trail with our headlamps turned to red (per what we read online about watching the fireflies) but still no blue. Once we were back on the wide gravel trail again we turned our headlamps off and knowing the state park was going to be closing in about 40 minutes, decided to start heading out to the cars.

Once we'd resigned ourselves to not seeing anything, one of our friends saw a faint blue light tucked deep in the shadows on the side of the trail. It looked like a very dim blue LED, and you couldn't see it from all angles. As we all took turns looking at the lone light, more popped up on the forest floor around us, until there were probably 100 dim blue lights scurrying around.

Very few were in the air, but a single cheeky blue fairy flew up and around our group as if saying hello to each one of us individually. Acorn was up on his dad's shoulders and the wee light flew up and encircled his head a few times before descending back in to the forest.

If I hadn't already been a firm believer in magic, and in fairies, I would have been after that.

Summer's Light is Dying

Summer's light is dying.

Everything is becoming golden, in that soft way that gently announces Autumn is on her way. The sun shining through the branches of the oaks in the morning casts a soft yellow haze over the world; everything is softer, more magical and lovely.

In the evening, as the sun casts his dying orange light over the world, beckoning forth the moon, we take walks and note the subtle beginnings of the turning leaves. The air feels lighter, the bird song is changing.

The garden is turning forth its last Summer harvests, a few more tomatoes and small hot peppers. The squash died of powdery mildew and the cucumbers were taken by the larvae of moths weeks ago. Meager effort though I put into it during my time as a rotund planetary body, the harvests were more abundant than we could eat alone. Plans for Spring planting already dance in my mind.

But now, the season of my heart is coming. The time when nature is dressed in its very best crimson and gold. The time of early nightfall illuminated by fires. Of cool nights and breezy days. It'll be here soon.

Once Summer's light has fallen.

Evening Ritual

Lately, despite the smothering heat and the lack of moisture that is killing everything in my yard and making my trees drop leaves like it's Autumn, I've been taking even more comfort and solace in the simple act of being outside than usual. Perhaps it's the discomfort I'm in most days as this baby gets bigger and bigger inside of me, maybe it's just a hatred of being cooped up in the Summer hiding from the heat that swells my feet and makes my body stream sweat, could be that it gives Luna mental stimulation while she is still on physical restrictions. Most likely though, it's simply that I've always been a dirt worshiper who feels better when I get outside, stick my bare feet on the ground and breath deeply.

On the rare mornings when it is still below 85* at 8am when Luna and I wake up and head out for her morning business, I grab a big cup of iced coffee and a book or my Moleskine and we sit side by side in chairs for as long as we have before the heat drives us both inside, panting. On breezy afternoons, I grab a quilt and a big cup of ice water and we head out to sit wherever there happens to be a lot of shade and a lack of fire ant hills.

But what's become a nearly nightly ritual, which I look forward to and don't even mind having to swat the blood sucking mosquitoes away to enjoy, is sitting outside at dusk watching the fireflies come out. Some nights I only manage to sit outside for 20 minutes, because I got out late or am not feeling very well and others I stay out there for hours. Usually Joe and Luna sit outside with me, he brings out a fan to blow the blood suckers away so I don't get eaten or have to bathe in bug spray, and we either chat or just sit quietly and let the sounds of Summer nights mingle with the dancing insects around us.

While I'm out there, my mind and body feel like they've shut down as I enjoy this magical display of tiny fireworks over grass and in the trees. For that period of time there are no bills, no concerns about the big changes coming, no discomfort, no stress, no worries. I'm completely relaxed, even more so than after a warm shower or bath, and everything that was previously filling my head, any tension at all, just slides away. When the lights have faded away, the lightning bugs thinning away until barely any are left and I go inside, I'm not bothered by the things I didn't get to on my To-Do list, I'm not aggravated by my lack of energy during the day, I don't beat myself up for the unwashed dishes, the unfolded laundry, the half-finished projects on my desks. I don't view that time outside as wasted or pointless, like I do with so many other forms of distraction (like when I've spent a lot of time watching TV or online).

Instead I view it as a nourishing and important ritual, something that I seem to need right now. Those magical little bugs, the frog princes and crickets singing their song as the sky darkens over head create moments for me to renew and replenish myself, moments to be treasured and to fall back on when I need them.

Nature is by far the most powerful of healers and no time spent with it can or should ever be viewed as wasted.

The First Harvest

Over the years, Lughnasadh has become one of my favorite Sabbats; I love it nearly as much as I love Samhain. I could go in to the mythology behind the Sabbat, tell you all about Lugh and his mother and why this festival was founded, but there are many other writers that do a very good job of that.

Instead, I'd like to share what this festival means to me. Sabbats, as with holidays both secular and of other faiths, hold different meanings to each person. While for the most part we start out in the same place when it comes to celebrating (learning the Mythology, associations, traditional rituals, etc.) as we become more in tune with our individual spiritual path, forge our own unique connections with deity and become comfortable with the cycles of Earth and Heavens in our own geographical location; our ways of observing and celebrating as well as our reasons why, may change. Evolving, if you will, into something more personal and therefore, more meaningful for the individual practitioner.

The harvest season here in the South starts a bit earlier than it does further North, typically with the first harvest happening closer to the Summer Solstice. When I lived in the Northern states, I celebrated Lughnasadh as an agricultural holiday, as well as a day dedicated to the god Lugh. You can imagine then, that my first harvest here was a bit of an adjustment; I'd already been pulling in the bounty for weeks - now what was I supposed to celebrate? Did I just go on with harvesting things as a way to celebrate?

Sure, but there was more than just pulling in goodies from the gardens to this Sabbat. The First Harvest Festival marks the start of the darker half of the year for me; heralding the start of the dying season. I've always been much more comfortable and content, on both physical and spiritual levels, with the part of the year that falls between August and March. This is the time of the year that I really get in to my element and get things done, this is the time of the year where my creativity typically peaks.

As a Harvest Festival, it is also a time of abundance - a time to reap what we have sown in the Spring time. Every Spring I do a cleaning and abundance ritual and so it is that I repeat that ritual once more at Lughnasadh. I clean house, clear out the energies, recharge wards and most importantly, evaluate where I am and how far I've come since Spring. If there's something holding me back or ties that no longer serve me, I use the powerful energy of this day to cut away the cords with an emotional scythe. Reaping and Harvesting isn't all just about bringing in the good stuff, after all. As I'm one to work with balance in mind, I realize that a cutting and burning like this leaves a gap that needs to be filled and so my final act, aside from the card pull I do at every Sabbat and Esbat, is to make an offering up to Lugh - in the form of art that I burn in my cauldron - and ask him to bless my creative practice and call forth what I need in my life.

Today I will celebrate the aspect of the God; Lughnasadh has always been a very masculine day for me - much like Imbolc is a very feminine one. For me, this isn't just a time to celebrate Lugh, but to also honor the Horned One and the God of the Wildwoods. There will be good ale in cold pints, fresh bread and hearty laughter. I will take offers to the edge of the property, where the trees and brambles grow thick between our yard and the next obscuring view and sheltering critters of both fur and feather.

May your Lughnasadh be merry, your blessings bountiful. May you reap that which you most desire and your creative fires be abundant. Happy Sabbat!

P.S. Edited to add photos. Feeling under the weather so celebrated and observed far earlier than usual.

A Day at the Lake

This past Saturday we took a day-trip to one of the local lakes, where our friend's father owns a home. We got up early in the morning, packed the car with a cooler, some swim suits, some doggie things and Miss Luna Petunia herself and headed southbound for a day trip.

When we pulled up to the small summer cottage, it made me ridiculously, awfully, knot in the belly homesick. Driving through the community was like driving through where I grew up and the house itself was eerily similar to the converted summer home I grew up in. Right down to the knotty pine paneling and cabinets in the kitchen. It also had that amazing effect that bodies of water tend to have on me; I could feel the stress just blowing away on the cool breezes, my body relaxed noticeably and I couldn't stop grinning. It had the same effect on Joe, who grew up in a very similar community on the edge of a lake.

When we first went down to the water, my friend and I went out onto the dock while Luna and Joe tried the water. Now, Luna is not a water loving dog. When you give her a bath, you may as well be trying to kill her and the kiddie pool we got for her is a big water dish - not something to play in. But I looked up and there she was, paddling as hard as her tiny legs would allow out to us on the dock! Future attempts to re-create her initial swim were hilarious failures. At one point she swam back to shore and sprinted around the yard in circles, refusing to get near any of us tricky people. Until she got tired, then she wanted whichever lap was closest.

Once we tuckered out the pup, we took a ride on the pontoon boat and lucky her, she was invited along. It turns out, I'm married to Panama Jack and my dog is a born sea-fairer! As we puttered about the lake, doing a good job emptying the cooler, my friend's father told us about some of the lake's history. It's man made and at the bottom there are still the remnants of houses and roadways from the town they flooded out long, long ago. An island in the center of the lake is called bomb island, as it was a place where they did practice runs during World War II. Nowadays though, it's the largest roosting place for the Purple Martin in all of North America. Apparently, at night you can watch several thousand birds come in to roost. We didn't get to see that this time, but hopefully one day we will and I'll be armed with my camera instead of my phone to get some pictures.

Not a square photo, lol.

To round out the day of beautiful sights and sounds, we were able to see both an eagle and an osprey hunting in the shallows while we sat on the porch eating dinner. As we drove home that night, with the scents of sunscreen and bug spray in the air, the sandy grit of spray in my hair and the first crackling feeling of sunburn on the edges of my face, I felt better than I have in months.

I'm not sure when, but one day, we'll move back to the edge of the water.

A Merry Lughnasadh

We've spent the Spring and Summer celebrating life and birth, now though, the wheel spins into the darker times and the harvest season is upon us. The fields, gardens and orchards have grown from the things we had sown in the spring - the bounty has come in and it is the reaping time. Now, as the nights grow cooler and the days grow ever shorter, we begin the season of dying and eventually, rebirth.

At this harvest, I honor the God as I honored the Goddess at Imbolc. Not just Lugh, though he is a patron of mine, but the lord of the forests and wild things as well. As we move into the darkness, it is his strength that I seek solace in. It is his wild, unruly nature that kindles the spark of restlessness and excitement that ignites come Autumn each year.

And it's already starting; a buzzing in my brain and a restlessness in my heart and body. The urge to just run, to meander the forests, to splash in the rocky rivers and climb mountains. A craving for ale and meat that leaves me during the hot summer months. Then too, comes the longing for crisp starlit nights and crunchy leaves underfoot, for pumpkins and bonfires surrounded by friends.

But for now, Autumn is only just beginning to creep in with the harvest. And while my own harvest is quite meager this year, due to the massive heat and a bad bought of worms infesting the cucumbers and squashes, I am appreciative all the same. I give thanks to the Earth and the sun, the wind and the rains for the harvest that I have managed to gather. I'm reflecting on the things I planted and started when the first vestiges of Spring appeared and taking stock of the things that have flourished or that simply continued to bloom this summer. In both the literal and figurative gardens of my life.

I wish you all a very merry Lughnasadh. May your harvest be plentiful and your home and table filled with abundance, joy, friendship and love.

Moonlit Tea With the King of Hearts

One moonlit night,
past Midsummer Day,
a winsome girl,
let her heart take flight.


Wandering alone,
through the woods she came,
to a wee pretty table,
illuminated by flame.


Quiet as a mouse,
She tip toed up to the charming tea,
then a giggle and a laugh
and out of the darkness stepped he.


Smiling most brightly,
he offered her tea to try,
and though she was tempted,
when pigs fly! was her reply.


Alas, pigs do fly here!
glancing sideways at him,
a cuppa she accepted.
And as she sipped the tea,
allayed was her fear.


The two laughed and made merry,
they played games,
sang and danced
until they became weary.


But as the music box sang,
the clocks all struck the hour,
and daylight was coming,
to turn their joy sour.


With a swift kiss to his lady,
the king did depart,
but not before leaving a precious gift...
the key to his heart.


And the girl awoke with a start,
bathed in sun in her studio,
with sleep filled eyes,
and a racing of her heart.


Just a dream thought she,
this king and his tea...

Or was it?

Thank you so much for joining me for a cuppa! This is my third year in a row reveling in the tea party madness with Vanessa at A Fanciful Twist and many, many others. I hope you enjoyed the wee story I whipped up and conned the hubs into playing along on... oh who am I kidding, he enjoys dress up as much as I do! Now that, lovely ladies is quite the catch! ;-)

If you'd like to visit the others for tea and whimsy, please click the icon below to be whisked over to A Fanciful Twist, where the master list of links resides!

The First Harvest

It is as if, after Midsummer, the garden is springing to life. Earlier in the week there was not a thing ready to be picked but today there was an abundance of peas and green beans, a teeny tomato and a surprise zucchini who appeared seemingly out of nowhere!

By some miracle, the weeds amongst the plants have stayed at a minimum and an hour or so of plucking this week will keep anything from strangling my vegetables or inviting in the veggie killing bugs.

I wish I could say my sunflowers were doing as well, but alas they are not. They've grown as tall as last year and have started to bud but more than half of them have fallen over at the center and cracked, laying broken and dying in their row. I haven't found any insects so I'm not sure what the problem is, but it's bumming me out.

Midsummer

The longest day, the beginning of summer. A time to harvest herbs, soak up some sun and rejoice in the warmth and the light of this side of the wheel. The Lord and lady peak, all of nature is stirring, things are growing and (hopefully) abundant.

The Oak king is slain, yielding dominion to his brother Holly. The king is dead, long live the king!

After the sun sets, the fae come out to play - this is a sabbat of fairy magic and mischief. Leave your offerings and gifts to the little people in their favorite spot and spend some time dancing with the fireflies. Revel in this dog day of summer, for it only gets darker from here.

Offerings to the fae, nestled in among mums and roses.


Painting outside in the afternoon, soaking up the sun.

May you all have a merry, fairy kissed, Midsummer. May your summer yield fiery passions and abundance aplenty.

May Moments

Man's heart away from nature becomes hard. ~Standing Bear




I've been spending a lot of time outside these past few days, as my staycation flies by - I can't believe it's already Thursday. To be honest, I'm growing a bit depressed that soon it will be back to being indoors for most of the day nearly every day; away from my beautiful backyard and its birds and bees. But I'm going to try my bloody best to get out there for at least a few minutes a day, just to sit and be still.





A few minutes to get my hands dirty in the garden, tending to the food and herbs I'm growing. A few minutes to enjoy the buzzing of bees or the blinking of the fireflies who I so love. A few minutes to replenish my heart and heal from the day. Nature is my mother, my muse and my medicine, the curative to a long day of ingratitude and moaning. How can one feel low when wrapped up in so much magic and beauty?





Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul. ~John Muir

The photos were taken over the course of the month, all in my backyard. A small testament that you can feel like crap and still find and appreciate beauty in the small things. I hope you enjoy them. :)

Sunday Morning

This about sums it up. Up and out with the early morning sun, ready for a day outside.

P.S. Those bright green stems and leaves you see behind the mower? Those are some of the sunflowers I planted on Ostara - growing like weeds and already budding.

Work in Progress Wednesday - Pickles and Jam

I've been busily making things out of the last of some of the summer crops, creating strawberry and peach jams as well as pickles. My cucumbers have succumbed to some sort of worm that burrows into them and pushes out the insides in a spectacularly gross and smelly fashion. So, these pickles are the last of my crop. These are my first ever attempts at canning, so I'm hoping they all turn out tasty and hold up well!

I'm thinking there may be enough time left in the growing season down here that I could possibly start another batch of cucumbers and squash. I fully intend to plant spinach and lettuce for a fall crop, so if I could get one more hurrah from some other veggies too that would be awesome. Any thoughts from anyone in this area? I'm in agricultural zone 7a.

What are you working on this week?

P.S. For those who aren't over on the Whimsical Cottage Facebook page and didn't see the announcement, I've ended my summer vacation and re-opened the Etsy Shop. Stop by and take a peek, I'll be adding new things as I work on them.