the language of spring

Well, it's been another little while, hasn't it? 

I like to add as many wild ingredients as possible into everyday food prep. The snow has melted (once again) so I walked the garden this crisp spring morning to see what would be good in scrambled eggs. I found yellow dock, chives, dandelion and violets -- everything looked clean enough so no washing...I don't usually wash wild/garden food unless it is absolutely necessary.

Something new around here is an old-time practice -- cooking with cast iron cookware. Currently I have three pans -- one is newish and two are from thrift shopping and appear to be very old. I like using cast iron for the usual reasons but one benefit I haven't seen mentioned is that it is so heavy that maneuvering a big frying pan is like lifting weights. I'm all for life exercise like that.

An egg-spell practice. It will be buried on the dark moon and a pansy planted over it.

Some wild honeybees moved here. The colony had lived for many years in a neighbor's tree. When the tree died, our neighbors had the tree removal experts cut out a 7-8' section and cart it over to our back yard. It was estimated that the hive area itself is several feet in height within that middle section. 

The bees seem content and we are thrilled and grateful to be part of such a unique endeavor. Plus this satisfies my secret fantasy to live inside a tree. I can imagine the hollow space of this tree divided by walls of honeycomb -- over here is the nursery and there is the capped honey area, up there is the nectar room, the drones are out back, the queen in the center of it all. It must be so warm and cozy with just the perfect level of humidity. The chanting of bees....zzzz....the fragrance...heaven.

A Rikke hat was finished -- it is a slouch hat and was fun to make, garter stitch on circular needles so there's still purling involved. I worked on this during wedding planning in December and January and finally got it blocked last month.

Holy smoke. Dried plant materials, having served their purpose, burned outside in the cauldron on a cold day. Ashes placed in the garden. Burning things takes me somewhere otherworldly.

A headband knitted in seed stitch. The last time I shopped for yarn with a friend, we decided I pick the same color every time. And she does too. Maybe everybody does.

A mossy altar was good medicine for the cold and dark months. 

I've been intentionally focused on resting over the last few months. No garden plans have been made, no seeds ordered, no new projects begun, no clothing bought or made to speak of. Like that. Now, though, I am feeling creative stirrings and the desire for clarity. Beginning to learn to listen to the language of spring and receive the messages sent by the element of air. Thinking about my inner and outer spring cleaning and taking the winds of change idea through to completion. What boons do I request. What are my visions and dreams and their meaning. Am I looking for signs and symbols, they are everywhere if only I notice. Are my grandmothers whispering to me, am I listening. What plants call to me and what dyes, medicines and meals might they offer. I hope that by learning the language and lessons of spring, I will better hear the messages of summer, fall and winter. 

I have never in all my life approached spring in quite this way. And so it goes, 'round and 'round. 

Happy Spring. xx