Saturday, January 31, 2009
Fire and Ice
A winter that seems to stretch back to the depths of your memories; the world held in thrall by the cruel glittering hand, that squeezes the land and needles your bones.
Imbolc is one of my favorite Sabbats. At times like this, I know how the ancients believed that summer wouldn't come if specific rituals were neglected. I love the pregnant pause before Spring, the dichotomy of fire and ice; the defiance with which we light a blazing glory of bonfires and candles.
The light has grown since the Winter Solstice, but it is almost imperceptible here in the Rockies, where the first signs of Spring still feel a long way off.
Blessings to you and yours on this Feast of Light!