Harvesting

Thursday was Lughnasadh for those of us who call ourselves pagan. It's a holy day in honor of Lugh, an ancient Celtic god often represented by light and a powerful sun. My path is Goddess-centric, and so I acknowledge the day as the first of the three harvest festivals (the second is the Fall Equinox, the third, Samhain--Halloween). The very first seasonal ritual I consciously observed as spiritual practice was Lughnasadh, about 17 years ago. I remember rising at dawn so I could go into the park across the street from us before the neighborhood awoke, and there I made offerings of corn muffins, gave thanks, and rejoiced at the turning of the Wheel. This year I honored the day in part by slow-roasting and then freezing tomatoes from a local farm, giving thanks for the bounty that will sweeten Winter evenings. 

But I don't like alot of things about Summer; it's a season that leaves me squirming in discomfort, languishing in heat and humidity. I'm deeply grateful for the bounty of this time of year; I know this morning the farm market will yield apricots and plums, tomatoes and zucchini, herbs and corn. And I love that the place I work is closed on Fridays most of the Summer. Friday mornings on the porch, drinking coffee while soaking in the glory of the morning glories and the songs of the birds are a blessing I don't take for granted. I'm kind of backwards; this is my hibernation time, the time when I have little choice but to dream and plan. I come awake as the days grow shorter and the nights cooler, when pumpkins and apples replace tomatoes as farm market staples. But still, there is a harvest here in our corner of the world....

We gathered our first garlic today!  We've never grown it before, and got 28 heads for 72 cloves planted, but there it is, hung in a never-gets-direct-sun north-facing living room window, with a window fan below, our very first homegrown garlic! We have several notes of things to do better in the future (remove the Winter straw mulch and fertilize come Spring among them), but for a few months, we'll savor this very first garlic. 

Garlic is a fascinating thing; for those who haven't grown it, you plant individual cloves. About nine months later (!), after it has lived in the dark, put out tall green shoots into the world, and those shoots have danced in Summer breezes and then died back, you get big heads of the stuff, and you plant individual cloves from the best of those heads....if you get it right, you sow what you reap and then sow the best of that harvest. Isn't that a great metaphor for spiritual growth?  

What are you harvesting this month as Summer begins her final songs?

Sunday Sundries

Happy Sunday! Alas, the day is racing to a close. We set the clocks back last night (okay, actually, this morning). I don't mind the earlier sunset; it suits this time of year. But I do mind the inexorable movement of the clock on a Sunday, ticking us closer and closer to Monday morning. Sigh.

Yesterday we had the pleasure of working at a local organic farm for their annual bulk sale of Winter veggies. It's a fourth generation farm, and they are all so grounded and warm. It was awe-inspiring to see so many people coming to buy cases of organic potatoes & beets & onions, boxes of butternut squash, bags of broccoli and assorted cuts of grass-fed beef to feed their families through the Winter. It's clearly a popular event local folks rely on, and the farm provides free cold storage for some of the veggies. Linda greeted & guided people; I helped with taking payment. It was a sunny, windy, very cold day despite alpaca socks, heavy shirt, flannel shirt and a sweat jacket, but we really enjoyed it! And taking partial payment in the form of squash, beets and stew beef was awesome. The whole day reminded us of the immeasurable impact of farmers. I've told Linda that I'd like this bumper sticker in my stocking this year:

Says it all, huh? 

This afternoon we finally fulfilled a goal of several years. It's one of those things that we talk about every year, but just never quite got to:

 
Under all that straw is a raised bed with newly amended soil (compost-manure mix & aged straw), and planted so carefully in that rich dirt is.......GARLIC! 63 cloves of 5 different varieties (Music, Roja, Rosewood, German White, Carpathian). All Winter it will sleep. In late Spring we'll harvest scapes (remember that pesto I rhapsodized over?), and late next Summer we'll harvest our very own garlic! I look at that bed, neatly (really, it is) mulched with straw to keep it snug, and I think magic. This weekend hit home to us again that if we'd gotten together a decade or so earlier, we'd have chosen a more rural life, not a large scale farm by any means, but one with alpacas, goats, an organic farm stand, and alot more honey bees. 

And speaking of magic, or perhaps the miraculous, here is Scrapper, now a robust 4 weeks old:

  
S/he's a cutie. The hope is that in a couple more weeks she'll be weaned & there will be a litter of kittens at the shelter she can be introduced to so she can learn proper cat behavior, and eventually be adopted. She's come so far, thanks to Linda's hard work and determination....

  The day is fading, the wind is still blowing. I'm going to have some tea, light a few candles, and relax by the fire. Wishing you a peaceful evening and gentle Monday...