Today (or yesterday, depending on your tradition) is Imbolc, a Celtic Pagan holiday celebrating the sun’s return and the last of the snow. I’m fairly certain our (as in American) holiday of Groundhog’s Day comes from this holiday. Well, from the Christian appropriation of this holiday.
Christians took this holiday and called it Candlemas, and from there, they came up with a handy little poem to help determine the weather:
“If Candlemas Day be fair & bright Winter will have another flight But if Candlemas Day be clouds & rain Winter is gone & will not come again.”
The U.S. translated that into if a rodent in Philadelphia sees his shadow, we have, what is it, 6 more weeks of winter.
Continue reading What seeds will you plant?
Nera was on her feet before she realized what she was doing. The pillows fell back to their spot on the floor, and Nera was clenching and unclenching her fists. The coldness in her soul seemed to be seeping from her every pore. Her nipples stood erect in the shift of temperature. A sound, part moan, part growl started deep in her chest, and the clanking sound of the pull chains of the fan could be heard just over the sound of flapping.
The light from outside vanished, breaking Nera’s murderous glare. Dozens of birds came swooping in through the door, which the men, in their haste to get Nera back indoors, had forgotten to shut. The image from her dream flashed before her, and she could see the breasts and fingers and human hair where none should have been. Then with a blink, the image was gone again, and all she could see were normal, everyday birds flying into her living room. For a moment, she thought they were going to swarm her, and she dropped to the floor.
Continue reading A Scene from The Secrets of Seashells