In Milk

Yesterday was slow and nice. The day sort of dribbled by. This morning I realized that yesterday was also Imbolc and I had completely spaced it. I like keeping Imbolc so I was dismayed. Now that I’m looking back over the day, I think celebration of a kind slipped in on its own despite my forgetting. Since we were in slow mode, I guess it was easy.

Imbolc’s an old Celtic holy day honoring the goddess Brigid and marking the first whispers of spring. Imbolc, meaning “in milk” in Gaelic, is a cross-quarter day smack between Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox (Eostar) The ancient agrarians noticed the ewes lactating with the early lambing and slim bits of green starting to peek up out of the snow. It’s like the very beginning of things becoming warm and pliant and flowing after the still chill of winter's grip. A time of weather omens, doorstep cakes and butter churning.

In places where it’s still observed, the traditions vary but usually involve themes of warmth, fire and light along with cleansing and feasting. I used to get bummed that the cheer, lights and energy of Christmas always faded out right when it’s really getting deeply cold and gray. So I took to this holiday.

Usually, Imbolc's a day we take down the last stray greens of Yule, clean house and plan a meal of greens and creamy foods. At dusk we turn off all the lights in the house, let the dark envelope us and then light the fire, watch the wreath combust and begin lighting candles, flicking on lights in every room until the interior is ablaze. Then we eat.

So it was different this year. Rob “happened” to take down the, by now very fragrant, wreath from the front door. Meredith brought by a dozen new eggs (wee ones) from her chickens . We went walking and noticed some especially intoxicating narcissus wafting for blocks. I made a lovely spinach salad with pecans, buttered quinoa and hot milky tea for dinner. We soaked in the hot tub at dusk and watched with fascination a flock of over 40 robins bobbing and flurrying in this one small tree in our yard, feasting on privet berries. Finally we took a night walk to pick up the kids and Rob turned off all the house lights so the fanciful colored lights we have on our kitchen table would be the first things we’d see coming home. On the way we noticed the fat full Leonine moon hovering and when we got to Jon and Lux’s, they had a blazing fire in their hearth! I only wish I had brought some cedar sprigs from the wreath to toss on it.

So, a subtle roundabout sort of celebration but one nonetheless...

Photo: Blue Buckeye with Sun by me. I took this on a recent hike in Annadel. I liked how the light made the tree seem almost frosted with the rosy sun peeking through.