Archive | 8:12 pm

A Little Celtic Magic at Midsummer…

21 Jun

Wild Honeysuckle…Woodbine

The Celts believed that endurance and patience were two of the elements in Woodbine, or Honeysuckle as we commonly call it.

The spiral journey could be found within the vine, so to have it growing wild at the entrance to Bealtaine Smallholding is magic indeed!

Winter and Summer…Thomas Telynog Evans

In lovely harmony the wood has put on its green mantle,

and summer is on its throne, playing its string-music;

the willow, whose harp hung silent when it was

withered in winter, now gives forth its melody-

Hush! Listen! The world is alive.

“We honour the land which supports us,

we respect the waters which give us life.”

-Amergin the Bard

Here are three things to hold dear on your journey…

Belief in oneself,

Belief in a higher self, and

Belief in the truth.

-Celtic Triad

The longest day is almost over…

Midsummer at Bealtaine Cottage.

21 Jun

Today is midsummer. The day is grey with low cloud and soft rain…a steady drizzle.

Summer has magically disappeared, just like in the magicians’ trick. Yesterday was a strange day! The clouds appeared to stand still all day long…

The soft rain has settled in drops on the red Perlagonium…Geranium to you and me! Red geraniums are linked in the minds eye with the Irish cottage. The simple, stark, vivid red stands out against the whitewash of the cottage walls. So much of Irish tradition has become subsumed into the vulgarity that was the so-called Celtic Tiger. One would be heard-pressed to find a traditional cottage that is lived in and cared for…most have been allowed to fall back into the ground.

Sweet William

This is the 5th year of bloom for this lovely white flower, planted into tyres around the veranda rose, it never fails to make a show of itself!

Strawberries in Hanging Baskets…
continue to fruit and ripen and be gorged upon!

The Sun Lounger has been temporarily abandoned…waiting for the sun!

Nasturtiums, emblematic of summer…

Delightful is the season’s splendour,

winter’s rough wind has gone;

bright is every fertile wood,

a joyful peace is summer.

-“Maytime,” Irish, 9th Century.

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