Imbolc 2025

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Pronounced EE-molc, Imbolc, which loosely translated means ewe’s milk or in the belly, is the celebration of light and the return of life, representing the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. For those of us following the pagan path, Imbolc is the first day of spring, the day the Celtic goddess Brigid (pronounced Breed) wakes from her winter slumber. For half the year she’s been living in the underworld, perhaps knitting scarves or darning socks, but her return is the transformation from the crone of winter to the maiden of spring, and the beginning of new life. Imbolc is also the time when lambs give birth and their milk starts to flow, which ties in nicely with the whole ewe’s milk translation.

Imbolc dates back to early 10th century in the British Isles, pre-Christian Gaelic Ireland to be exact.. Back when online shopping wasn’t a thing and gardening catalogues hadn’t happened yet. All the people had to help them mark the seasons were the sun and moon, and lactating ewes.

Christians adopted Imbolc, changed the day by one, called it Candlemas, and bingo, a new saint, St. Brigid, was given to the people of the land as a replacement for the pagan goddess, Brigid. According to author Patti Wigington, “When Ireland converted to Christianity, it was hard to convince people to get rid of their old gods, so the church allowed them to worship the goddess Brigid as a saint – thus the creation of St. Brigid’s Day.” Here’s an interesting tidbit, the perpetual flame burning in most early Christian churches is likened to goddess Brigid’s fire.

As time passed a groundhog found his way in the mix and we got Groundhog Day.

No, not that Groundhog Day.
Yup, that one.

Honoring Brigid includes the lighting of fires, or white candles, and embracing the sun’s rays, which can include perusing plant catalogues.

Another way to celebrate Imbolc is by making a milk-based food. Say, for example, baked custard.

Baked-egg-custard-ramekin

Baked Custard

Ingredients
  • 4 large eggs
  • 3 cup cold evaporated skim milk (or regular whole milk if you’re not counting Calories)
  • 1/2 cup granulated sugar
  • 1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
  • 1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
  • 1 tsp. vanilla extract
  • A pinch of salt

Directions

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Combine all the ingredients in the bowl of a mixer and beat for about 15 seconds, or until well mixed. Pour mixture into ramekins or custard cups. Place the ramekins into a baking dish, and fill the dish with hot water up to a depth of about ¾”. Bake the custards for one hour. Remove from oven and allow to cool. Dust with nutmeg before serving.

Those of us in the Northern Hemisphere who follow the wheel of the seasons don’t need a groundhog (though they are very cute) to know the sun is returning to bring warmth to us once again. A few buds might be seen on the trees and, if there wasn’t a foot of snow on the ground, one might see some crocus flowers as well. Alas, today the goddess is wearing a cloak of winter white instead of her vibrant green.

One common Imbolc ritual is a deep cleansing of the body and home and an offering of milk, to represent the awakening seeds. I won’t lie and write that my house is clean and I only have almond milk. Hopefully, Brigid is forgiving and will accept my white candles, dirty kitchen floor, and offering of cracked corn. At least the ducks were grateful.

Blessed Imbolc to you and may the seeds of spring grow in your heart. Blessed be :]

Mi manchi, mia amata immortale.

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The Walls Came Tumbling Down

There’s a biblical story that tells about Joshua and the walled city of Jericho. He was instructed to march around Jericho’s walls once a day, for six days, and seven times on the seventh day. As they marched, the priests blow trumpets.

Depiction by Julius Schnoor von Carolsfeld (1794–1872)

On the last day the walls came tumbling down.

I’m not sure what caused the walls to crumbled. Was it the vibrations from all the trumpets or the wind caused by all those guys blowing out fetid air through their mouths (come on, no one back then cleaned their teeth)? Or was it a miracle?

I guess we’ll never know but I do know one thing–it was the wind that took down my walls.

Wind gusts of over 50 mph and my walls came tumbling down. No trumpets; no heavily robed priests.

Just wind.

Unlike the fable of Joshua, no Israelites invaded my yard and no curse was placed on my home.

My trusted carpenter, Choppy, came over the next day and rebuilt my walls. Ensuring my yard’s safety from invading armies.

Blessed be :}

Il mio amato immortale.

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Once in a Black Moon

Ahh, I bet you think I made a mistake. ‘River Lady, a Black Moon! You meant to write Blue Moon, correct?’

Nope.

A Black Moon is the second new moon of the month and tonight is the night. December 30, 2024.

Okay, we’ve straightened that out, now let’s move on to what makes a Black Moon special — because it’s rare. The last time a Black Moon occurred was in August 2022, and there won’t be another one until May of 2026.

You won’t be able to see the Black Moon, however, because just like all new moons, the earth is between the moon and the sun.

Unless moon-men have their lights turned on, the moon is too dark to see.

See?

To continue, new moons are powerful moon phases. Not only are they ideal for skywatching, but they allow for new beginnings.

As the moon waxes, we have the opportunity to welcome growth into our lives.

And Black Moons are the most powerful of new moons.

Some serious growth is coming your way, if you only take the time to sit, reflect, and ask.

I like to use a specially colored candle for my new moon rituals.

Here’s a guide of the colors you can choose and their meanings.

White is always a good go-to if you don’t have a tinted candle.

So, grab a scrap of paper, and write down your strongest intention for the coming lunar cycle. Be it a desire for a new job, love, healing, or abundance; the universe is yours for the asking. When the darkness of moon is upon you, visualize what you have written, light the paper, and allow the smoke to carry your intention up to the moon.

And open yourself to possibilities.

Blessed be :]

Il mio amato immortale.

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Time Marches On

Today is my 69th birthday.

Happy Birthday to me, you old bag of bones.

Yup, I’m old, and getting older by the minute.

Not much I can do about it. Can’t freeze time like some superhero or time travel like Christopher Reeve did in the movie Somewhere in Time. Good movie. Sooooooo romantic.

Jane Seymour and Christopher Reeve

Back to my old bag of tired bones.

It’s been a heck of a year since my last birthday; the highlight being my shunt surgery, among other things which I will go into in another post.

I just wanted to check in and tell you about my birthday. In leu of gifts, please donate to Ovations for the Cure to support ovarian cancer research.

Much appreciated, thank you.

Happy Birthday to me. Blessed be :}

Il mio amato immortale.

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My Tiny Dancer

I imagine you dancing along the sand
Kicking your strong legs
Splashing with toes
Nails painted pink

Romeo running along your side
His barks resonating on the breeze
A round body with a curled tail
Scattering the seagulls in his path

It's been five years since you left my side
My how the time has flown
But you are still with me
My tiny dancer, my sister, my love

We'll be together some day
We'll skip at the water's edge
Your laughter will mingle with mine
We'll link arms, and dance
Dyan Grace Gonnella

Blessed be :]

Il mio amato immortale.

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Feederwatch 2024

Yup, it’s that time again.

Cornell Lab of Ornithology is holding its annual bird counting endeavor in the hopes of keeping tabs on our feathered friends.

Male Eastern Bluebird.

So hang your feeders, buy some black oil sunflower seeds, make a cup of tea (or pour some wine if you’re so disposed), and count.

Click here for the details.

What are you waiting for?

Blessed be :]

Il mio amato immortale.

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Gossamer

Today’s word of the day.

A great word, bringing to mind the fragile wings of a moth.

Campaea margaritata

Blessed be :}

Il mio amato immortale.

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It’s Time

It’s fleeting some say.

Others say she drags.

Still there are those who lament her lack of quantity.

Wherever you stand on the debate, there is one thing that holds true — one can’t capture it, no matter the number of pictures we take, recordings we make, or memories we store in our brains.

Time follows her own rules.

And the time has come to say goodbye to Summer 2024.

The sunflowers will smile no more…

and my roses will lose their blush, their sweet scent no longer filling the afternoon air.

The end of summer brings farewells to old friends saying goodbye way too soon.

I’ll miss the nightly visits of the female Rose-breasted Grosbeak at my bedroom window feeder.

Female Rose-breasted Grosbeak

And the hummingbirds, ahhh the hummingbirds–fortified by the offerings of my gardens and nectar feeders, they will travel long and hard, without a backward wave of their tiny wings.

It’s interesting that when the dog days of summer are upon me I long for the coolness autumn offers, but when summer fades away I will miss her warms nights, the songs of the crickets, and her languid days.

Time.

Hold on tight, for she is a fleeting mistress.

Where’s the hummingbird?

Blessed be :}

Il mio amato immortale.

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The Birds and the Bees

Let’s start with the bees.

Honeybees to be exact.

In my chimney and, like a scene from Hitchcock’s The Birds, flying out of the fireplace and into my living room.

Yup, honeybees; very angry honeybees when they realized there was no exit to the outside.

While Bailey chased the bees I quickly blocked the fireplace using a large piece of cardboard and half a roll of packing tape.

The bees managed to squeeze out the edge but would get caught by the tape.

Sigh.

I didn’t want them to suffer a slow death so I …. (shudder) squished them.

A call to my handyman remedied the situation. He removed the metal cover to the chimney (this will become important later in the post) and checked for a hive.

He didn’t find a hive but he did see lots of bees hovering around.

Hmmmmm, perhaps they’re intent on building a new hive, he said, and improved my makeshift blockade inside the house.

I told him to leave the metal chimney cover off.

Looking at me quizzically, he wanted to know why.

I’m not just a pretty face; I know that Chimney Swifts eat insects and roost in chimneys (thus the name).

Photo Credit: Chimney Swifts; Reddit

Fast forward a few weeks — no bees and I have Chimney Swifts.

Cool.

Blessed be :}

Il mio amato immortale.

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Male Northern Cardinal

It is with a deep joy in my soul that I once again send you this Solstice Prayer:

May the summer season bring you drink to quench your thirst and food to fill your belly.
May the sun warm your bones and hold you gently in his embrace.
May the breeze caress your skin and cool your brow.
May your soul find joy in the colors, scents, and songs of nature.
May you know peace and tranquility in the shade of an oak.
May your journey be without peril.
May you soar.
Blessed be.
Doe and fawn on the Concord River.

Blessed be :}

Mi manchi, mia amata immortale.

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