Posted in ancient Ireland, celebrations, Celtic Mythology, Celts, Garden, magic, midsummer, Shakespeare, Spirituality

Midsummer Vigil

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The wall is silence, the grass is sleep,
Tall trees of peace their vigil keep,
And the Fairy of Dreams with moth-wings furled
Plays soft on her flute to the drowsy world.
~Ida Rentoul Outhwaite

DSC00869And as the seasons come and go, here’s something you might like to know.

There are fairies everywhere: under bushes, in the air, playing games just like you play, singing through their busy day.

So listen, touch, and look around — in the air and on the ground.

And if you watch all nature’s things, you might just see a fairy’s wing.

~Author Unknown 

I often walk the gardens in the early morning, taking my tea or coffee with me…and always my camera.

DSC00874It is often in the early morn or at dusk that I find myself in a strange little corner of the gardens, which stretch to three acres and I attempt to capture the moment through the lens.

DSC00882For my part, I believe in the Sidhe and have often felt their presence.

This morning there appeared to be a humidity in places which made it’s presence felt in some of the photographs I took.

DSC00885You may make of them what you will.

DSC00887Bealtaine Cottage is quite alive at all times and especially today, Midsummer, 20th day of June 2016.

DSC00888The veil is thin…

DSC00892This is of very special meaning to me and heralds the presence of my Mother, for this is her Angel sitting by a plant which was dedicated to her.

My daughter bought this pot and plant as a reminder for me of my Mother and her Grandmother…it sits near my seat by the veranda, just outside the back door.

DSC00896The Realm of the Sidhe is a shadow land, carved out by the Tuatha de Danann following the defeat of the tribe in their last great battle.

Many of the sacred places in Ireland are also home to the Sidhe lying just beyond the fields we know.

DSC00904The Tuatha de Danann, the people of the Goddess Danu, were one of the great ancient tribes of Ireland.

The important manuscript ‘The Annals of the Four Masters’, records that they ruled Ireland from 1897 B.C. to 1700 B.C

Bealtaine Cottage appears to be  alive with ancestors.

Midsummer Blessings to All XXX

 

 

Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
Will we sing, and bless this place.
~William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Posted in bog gardens, floods, Ireland, night, Permaculture, ponds, water

Fertile Edges of the Imagination

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The day is ending and night is closing in.

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Floods have swollen the rivers, causing aquifers to burst out across the land.

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Everywhere is sodden.

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I put on my wellies to walk the gardens, eager to see the mighty force of water sweeping through the pond.

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I step in squelching earth underfoot as the last blackbirds sing out their territorial salute to the day as it passes into the west.

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With the pond weed all but cleared, the last vestiges of a winter’s day linger on the surface of the water.

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Droplets of rain cling to twigs and ivy in the still of the evening air.

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Lichens, sodden with rain, flop across the horizontal branches of the Goat Willow.

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The otherworldliness of the Fairy Wood beckons as  the birdsong ends and silence descends.

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I make haste up the gentle hill towards the cottage and the warmth of home.

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Once indoors, I sit for a few precious minutes in the fading light, blissfully soaking up the silence.

Day, evening and night merge seamlessly at dusk, fertile edges of the imagination.