a green blessing at lammas

The light has changed, have you noticed? To me, it has a greenish cast, maybe because there is so much green mass for sunlight to pass through. I don't know exactly why, but I always notice this, every August 1st the light turns the air green. 

I dismantled my Summer Solstice altar and built a new one for these beginning days of Lammas, a gratitude celebration for the beginning of the first harvest. Representations of the first harvest from the garden fill the bowl while also calling to mind other things in my life coming to fruition as well -- things that I've made intentions toward and worked on over the last six months.  

Nice to use a cloth with a grid to lay sacred objects onto -- crystals & stones and pinecones...

...a necklace and a green glass pyramid filled with healing intentions for our oldest dog...

...a key and a bee and a woman with her ruffled feather. 

Lammas-time holds some fine memories for me, it is a point on the wheel of the year that I am so familiar with, the green air and all. This year though I've changed. I am purposely rewilding myself and everything is different. So I created a garden blessing ritual that draws on some energies in Nature that I've gotten to know better.

Breath of Light, Heart of Green,

Earth and Spirit and All between,

Bless this land as sacred space,

May Love and Peace dwell within this place,

Breath of Light, Heart of Green

Earth and Spirit and All between.

The bees didn't mind that I burned copal resin so close by. I think they're already getting tamer as they rewild themselves back to their true nature. Maybe that's what's happening to me, too. Getting tamer.

I hung the crystal necklace from the Lammas altar onto a little blue spruce branch. I hope to hang more crystals throughout the garden as time goes by.

Green heart stones were laid in the four directions of the space we live on. The green heart bloodstone is in the nettle patch to the east.

I walked around the perimeter of our city lot and placed the stones, tomorrow I will bury them. This green heart stone is near the sidewalk to the south which leads to our front door.

As I walked, I realized that the noises of city living could be viewed as the voice of the Green Woman. The dogs barking, the road work, sirens, all of it. This green heart stone is in the west in an area I am helping to rewild into a wooded pathway.

Our grandmother grapevine climbs on the north fence and before her lies the north green heart stone.

This is a glimpse of my ritual. I had a wonderful time both creating and enacting it. In a few days it will be on a new page over on the sidebar. If you would like to bless your space or name your space, it might be a helpful guide.

Blessings for an abundant first harvest (or a successful first sowing) and Happy Lammas (or Candlemas) depending on your hemisphere.

xo

moon of mine

Stitched around, 
Love is bound,
Wheel divine, 
Moon of mine (repeat 100x or so)

I loved thinking about them, and dyeing and then stitching them. These moons of mine, oh how I love them. February's dye & stitch mandala, is complete -- part of my moon art ritual for 2014, #2 in the series of 13 moondalas. This one is a pansy-dyed background with a raspberry-dyed moon stitched with embroidery floss. January's is a grape-dyed background with an undyed white wool moon. They are about 4" square.

It is the dark of the moon now and I'm trying to be more still, to do one thing at a time. No multi-tasking allowed -- even stitching and knitting in silence. No radio, no music, no podcasts -- only the sounds of the dogs sighing as they fall asleep and their yips and growls as they chase rabbits and squirrels in their dreams.

Thanks for visiting and happy weekending to you. I'll be knitting sleeves on a certain purple february lady sweater as well as making a permanent impression on the seat of my chair. That kind of multi-tasking cannot be avoided. xo

full moondalas

 

"...moon bright, dark night, threads to sew, 'round I go, moon bright, dark night, threads to sew, 'round I go, moon bright, dark night, threads to sew, 'round I go, moon bright, dark night, threads..."

Yesterday's full moon was a full day of taking stock and winding up. There was stirring, squeezing, and straining. Full-moon feasting at mid-day with a girlfriend. Daydreaming and writing. Stitching a spell into the night. Drawing down the moon before bed.

My sewing ritual on full moons this year is stitch once again -- 13 moondalas -- using home-dyed wool and colorful floss. The first little moondala is just beginning to take form, a creamy moon on a 4" amethyst square.

I wanted a shade of violet for the background because the sky is sometimes that color early in the morning in January. So I tried to find violet in the dye-pot two different ways yesterday. The light blue/green wool, which I didn't use on this moondala, came by way of frozen purple pansy petals from last summer's flowerpots -- I like the color but it's nowhere near what I was looking for. And the successful amethyst wool came from a grape dye-bath made with frozen grape pulp and seeds, leftovers from making grape juice last summer.

As long as the grape dye-bath was in front of me, I thought I'd see what I could do with this blouse to change the hue. I'm pretty happy with the outcome and a hundred times more likely to wear it now.

Sure, unrolling the pomegranate and eucalyptus bundle was a moldy business but the eucalyptus leaves made it smell heavenly. I can't say how much I love the way white wool takes on color and pattern.

Straining herbal concoctions is another task for a full moon. There is more to strain today and it will be nice to get my little home apothecary in order.

There is satisfaction and pleasure in all this activity but now I'm looking forward to quieter, slower days ahead. Balance.