Wheel of the Year #phenology

Meteorological Spring starts 50 days from today, but you can't tell based on today's January thaw weather. There's even some mud developing in the gravel road. One of the Christmas presents we received this year is a book about druidry. Now, for a long while, we've known about Summer and Winter Solstices, and Vernal and Autumnal Equinoxes. Despite the fact that we are "of Irish extraction" we were never aware of the existence of Samhain, Imbolc, Beltane, and Lughnasadh.

January thaw brings mud to gravel roads

Photo by J. Harrington

Since we've become more interested in phenology, these intermediate festivals seem helpful as a more mindful way to consider the seasonal patterns we see repeated most years. Here's how it looks in terms of the Druidic wheel of the year, starting not with the beginning of the Druid year (Samhain) but with with the upcoming festival of

• Imbolc — February 1 or 2 — lambs born, ewes come into milk
• Spring Equinox — March 20
• Beltane — May Day — blossoming time
• Summer Solstice — June 20 — longest daylight
• Lughnasadh — beginning of August — cutting of the first grain crop
• Autumn Equinox — September 22
• Samhain — October 31 — harvest ends, Winter begins
• Winter Equinox — December 21 — shortest daylight

Culturally, we seem to be increasingly separated from natural cycles. To the extent that climatologists are correct about climate change's effects, we might want to become more familiar with what the old normal was like, so we can to how much our new normal is deviating from it. Unless of course you subscribe to the Davy Crockett premise that "You ain't lost if you don't care where you are."

Where we are in an annual cycle in our North Country is a week or so from the time black bear cubs are being born. If we're really optimistic, and have good ears, we can start to listen for the Spring songs of birds like the cardinal and the chickadee. Just remember, the next eight to twelve weeks of the year were a time of hunger for our ancestors and still are for many other than human persons who share this country with us.

                     To One Coming North

By Claude McKay

At first you'll joy to see the playful snow,

  Like white moths trembling on the tropic air,

Or waters of the hills that softly flow

  Gracefully falling down a shining stair.

And when the fields and streets are covered white

  And the wind-worried void is chilly, raw,

Or underneath a spell of heat and light

  The cheerless frozen spots begin to thaw,

Like me you'll long for home, where birds' glad song

  Means flowering lanes and leas and spaces dry,

And tender thoughts and feelings fine and strong,

  Beneath a vivid silver-flecked blue sky.

But oh! more than the changeless southern isles,

  When Spring has shed upon the earth her charm,

You'll love the Northland wreathed in golden smiles

  By the miraculous sun turned glad and warm.

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