The last flush of Summer happens in early Lughnasadh.
As I walk the gardens in late evening, the earthy taste of Autumn pervades the air.
The wheel turns as endings and beginnings wind their way through the days of change.
All is change…
Mists form in early morning cool air as heat continues to rise from the earth.
Soon the clothes of summer will be packed away, to be replaced with woollens and woven items more suited to the cooling of Lughnasadh.
In the world of man the destruction and threats of destruction continues, as though in another dimension. Mother Earth is unaware of their arrogance and hubris…She just goes on, as they huff and puff and eventually blow themselves out…She just goes on!
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Your vine has woven magic around the door to my cottage.
Now, that being said, I can get on with sharing images captured this morning as I walked the gardens.
Thirteen years ago I made a decision to follow my heart and return to Ireland, with a mighty quest.
I wanted to prove the cynics and naysayers wrong.
I believed it was possible and doable to repair Mother Earth…at least a small part of her, whatever little piece I could afford to buy.
Now, thirteen years is a short time in the scheme of things and those who have looked at the before pictures are as amazed as I am at the speed, health and abundance of her recovery!
It is important to state here, for the record, that most people I knew, including friends and family, seen my quest as a form of madness that had taken hold of me in my post menopausal state!
During all of the thirteen years, as I wrote and photographed the unbelievable progress of this little bit of Mother Earth, I became aware that I was one of a small, but increasing band of strange people who had heard the call and got stuck in, doing, what seemed to others, a crazily mad thing!
I became used to the naysayers and the cynics.
I looked up occasionally from my ceaseless planting and sowing and saw people who talked the talk in fine measure, but stopped there!
You know who you are and I am eternally grateful for your love and support!
At this thirteen year junction, for it feels like a crossroads for sure, I have become increasingly aware of what lies ahead…and, as with my strong feelings to do what others scorned some thirteen years ago, I care little for what the response is to my words…they must be recorded!
The arrogance of man is shocking indeed!
To have been so certain in the face of their own destructive ways, that the greatest seed bank ever built and guaranteed to last for centuries, if not millennia, was brought to within a hair’s breath of destruction within a few short years of its completion, should be the wake-up call of wake-up calls!
Read the arrogance of certainty in this 
Now, we all know what 
The Doomsday Vault has not even survived its first ten years!
So this brings me to what I want to say…
Things are changing faster than anyone could have expected!
I have witnessed the longest drought ever this year here in the west of Ireland.
The water table dropped in early 
We are now entering a period of great change.
The Arrogance of Certainty seems ridiculous with hindsight, for nothing is certain anymore!
Man has chosen to try to outrun Nature in a feeble attempt to remain in charge!
I continue to sow and plant…one of many little Arks across the Earth…and plant out the little clocks that
“Man has drawn artificial lines on the chest of the Mother Earth, which have no significance, except for the sake of war and clashes between countries. The soil seems to be the same, the trees the same, the grass the same, and the fragrance of the air, the smell of the earth the same.”
Bread and circuses, but we all know and recognise real life.
It has a colour and fragrance all of its own.
If you would like to support the work of Bealtaine Cottage, completely dependent on people who value what I do, here’s how…
I am, from this morning, in search of the Goddess in the landscape from Bealtaine to the Atlantic Ocean and surrounding countryside.
What began as a quest for Eden, thirteen years ago, has evolved into a quest to find the Goddess in all her secret wells, valleys, woods and mountain tops.
I have often wrote about her, dreamt of her and felt a need to help her rise from obscurity, for this land was the home of the Goddess before the importation of other belief systems.
My task is complete here.
To this end I am writing and photographing my next book as from today!
“Globalized industrialized food is not cheap: it is too costly for the Earth, for the farmers, for our health.
The Earth can no longer carry the burden of groundwater mining, pesticide pollution, disappearance of species and destabilization of the climate.
Farmers can no longer carry the burden of debt, which is inevitable in industrial farming with its high costs of production.
It is incapable of producing safe, culturally appropriate, tasty, quality food.
And it is incapable of producing enough food for all because it is wasteful of land, water and energy.
Industrial agriculture uses ten times more energy than it produces. It is thus ten times less efficient.”
A small reminder of the crossroads we find ourselves at in these times of ecological destruction.
This was something I was discussing with those attending last Saturday’s workshop and how we can all grow something, no matter how small, to add to our daily diets.
The old concept of growing food to the end of it’s lifespan and harvest is no longer considered the only way.
Micro-greens, that is, growing until a small, but perhaps more nutritious harvest is produced and continues to produce, is now considered to be a viable option.
In this way, we can all grow some of the essential nutrition we need for health.
The way to use these small harvest can be as simple as a salad, or even a stir-fry, (one of my favourite meals this year!).
The essential thing is to move away from corporate “hunger” food as much as we can manage.
Hunger food is what is passing in the western world as food, which it is quite patently, not!
This mass-produced, processed stuff is causing us to be both ill and dangerously overweight.
We know it, yet are almost paralysed to extract ourselves from the catastrophic loop! 
There has never been as much food available or as much prescription medicine doled out!
It’s not difficult to connect the dots!
It is also not difficult to grow food, even without a garden, balcony or even window box. 
Sprouted beans are incredibly nutritious and can be added to any diet.
Seeds and grains can be added to the simplest of dishes…seeds are easily saved, even from nettles! Foraging in hedgerows and wild areas can produce nutritious add-ons to most diets. I often foraged in small wild areas when living in London. Alys Fowler, among many others, has written some excellent books on the subject. Solving a big problem begins with small, manageable steps!
Outside the birdsong carries vibrant energy over the land.
On this, the longest day of the year, the Earth in the northern hemisphere basks in the glow of seemingly eternal light.
The shades of green seem endless, a patchwork of effervescence with splashes of outrageous colour.
As fast as flowers open they turn to seed and the future summers to come.
The hard work of the winter, creating the Lughnasadh Garden, has paid such rewards as could only have been imagined.
Midsummer marks the year in glorious technicolour and song, as befits Mother Earth. It’s like a birthday for her!
I have run out of space on this land…there is little room for more…yet more grows and arrives as gifts.
The workshop on July 1st covers aspects of co-creating a garden with Mother Earth, creating micro-climates, incorporating fruit and vegetables and the no-dig method of establishing, building and maintaining a regenerative Eden.
Aspects of seed saving will be part of the day.
A full walk and talk of the gardens will also be included.
You are welcome to take photographs and ask all the questions you may want.
Please allow for the weather in your outdoor clothing considerations…and footwear.
The day begins at 11am and finishes at 5pm.
Morning and afternoon tea and vegan cakes are included.
A vegan lunch, also included, is served at 1.30pm.
As of this posting there are two spaces left.
Those who attended yesterday’s workshop attested to this simple fact, as they explored the paths and gardens that link, one to another, in a seemingly endless journey through Nature.
Rachel Carson wrote this over fifty years ago…
I am on the road less travelled.
Something of a hermit in a world besieged by those who are driven by acquisition and spiralling discontent.
Bealtaine Cottage now exists as a Ark for Nature. 
That which has brought humanity to this point of peril, exists outside of Bealtaine.
I continue to tend and stand guard on what, to me, represents the sacred, while churches, temples and shrines gather people to them, looking ever skyward for the meaning of life…yet life clings around their feet, plundered and stamped to dust.
And so I continue on the road less travelled…happy and blessed to be so.
Evening descends.
The cottage stands silent on the little hill.
Jack, SammyBear and I head off down the cottage lane for a walk.
The clock salutes the hour of ten, as night begins its descent in the west of Ireland.
As we move towards Midsummer, the light holds sway.
I carry words in my head as we make the descent along the little lane, planted on either side with generous intent.
The words were spoken by a Native American many years ago, but are as relevant today as they were then…perhaps more so.
“Wherever forests have not been mowed down, wherever the animal is recessed in their quiet protection, wherever the earth is not bereft of four-footed life – that to the white man is an ‘unbroken wilderness.’
But for us there was no wilderness, nature was not dangerous but hospitable, not forbidding but friendly.
Our faith sought the harmony of man with his surroundings; the other sought the dominance of surroundings.
For us, the world was full of beauty; for the other, it was a place to be endured until he went to another world.
But we were wise. We knew that man’s heart, away from nature, becomes hard.”
We carry words and music in our heads, most of which seems trivial in reflection.
I have turned many of my favourite poems, quotes and words into mantras of meditation.
Some, like this one, become prayers.
They were wise.
Their wisdom makes our so-called civilisation appear trite in comparison.
As I climb the lane towards Bealtaine, the air is silent.
Birds have gone to roost.
Night is drawing in.
Bats have taken flight.
As Bealtaine Cottage prepares to celebrate it’s thirteenth Midsummer, the tide of life amidst it’s trees and woodland swells.
In this year of the feminine thirteen, I dedicate this sacred space Mother Earth, free from impoverishment of spirit and death…
the eternal return!
There is something so simple, yet so unique about Goddess Permaculture. 
It’s evident to all who visit Bealtaine Cottage. 
It is the connectedness of everything. 
Earlier today, whilst walking the woodland gardens, I discovered the body of a fox. 
It had come to Bealtaine to die…a safe place, a quiet place where only the birdsong held sway in the shady gardens near the silt pond. 
The beautiful creature had already made itself known to me in the preceding days… 
Sometime last week, in the early hours of the morning, between three and four, I was awoken by a cry and then Jack barking. 
I got up and looked out through the glass of the front door. 
There it was, one of the oldest foxes I had ever seen, quite thin and scraggy, crossing the gravel by the front of the cottage. 
It is rare for me to rise out of bed at that hour, but something drew me to look. 
I now know it was this beautiful, old fox bidding me farewell…one last lap of honour around Bealtaine Cottage, before it laid itself to rest in a quiet, cool spot of safety for it’s final hours. 
I feel honoured that this once beautiful creature chose Bealtaine Cottage to die. 
A place of sanctuary. 
Somewhere, in a world where it was hunted, reviled and pushed out, that it found a place to simply die. 
This evening, as I write, I feel honoured and blessed to have witnessed such a life and peaceful passing.
