01 February 2016

Today is Imbolc or Lá Fhéile Bríde - the only feast day in my repertoire of rituals.
. . . a festival of the hearth and home, and a celebration of the lengthening days and the early signs of spring 
But I don't do any of the dipping my hands into the holy well stuff, not that there is a shortage of holy wells, this is catholic Rhineland, I don't cook special food (I don't cook that much anyway) and no prayers either, no bonfire to purify the air. No blackthorn in our garden.

I am just relieved that once again, the darker months are over and done with, that I am here, still in my shabby dressing gown, with a cup of lukewarm tea, washed up in one piece after another stormy weekend of vertigo and nausea, my ears ringing and booming, finding my bearings. Listening to Luka and the lovely Dublin crowd singing.

Luka Bloom, Don't be afraid of the light that shines within you

1 comment:

  1. I love the season of Imbolc. A fellow blogger writes of all the midway seasonal points. They make so much sense. Today the sun is shining here, and we are half way to equinox. The days are getting noticeably longer, and there are buds on the trees. So much promise fills the warming air. Hope your vertigo and nausea are gone, Sabine and that you are enjoying the season of Imbolc there.