Blackthorn Blossom
The death of winter and new beginnings.
Thank you for joining me wherever you may be and in whatever time these words find you. Where I am it is Oestre, Eastertide, Ramadan and Passover and there is a sense of reverence and rest in the air. I am on school holidays at the moment and I will start working at a new school on Monday. I am nervous about the change more than anything but I hope that this change will allow for more healthy challenge and keep my mind out of mischief whilst supporting my family and myself.
Lady’s Well
As well as following the teaching path I am also on a personal journey with the Goddess and Saint, Patroness of Ireland, Brigid. She is know by many names and she has many associations, one of which is the healing and sustaining waters of the well.
Having just left my old school, with all of the heartache and relief that brought, I found myself, as I often do at the beginnings of holidays, somewhat adrift. This, I am sure, is because my excellent brain loves a routine (although, conversely, not a schedule?) and without one I get a bit fizzy. Not quite at burnout, but at a place of physical and spiritual exhaustion I sought the refreshment of the well. I was seeking connection and rest and some clarity on the new paths ahead of me. A quick look online found a well near to us here in Wilcote, Oxfordshire, known as Lady’s Well or Bride’s (one of Brigid’s various names) Well. I suggested a pilgrimage to my husband and the next day we were off. I made a clootie, an offering to the goddess to hang at the well, using dried rose petals from our garden, tiny pieces of rose quartz, rosemary from my daughter, and an excellent looking leaf from my son. These small practices help me feel centred and calm - connected to something greater than myself, closer to Mother Earth.
We arrived at the well and were greeted by two lines of ancient elms guiding us down to the water. We tied our clootie at the gate and ventured inside the well one at a time. I went last, and I felt called to dip my hands in and wash my face in the water, encouraged by Brigid. I came out refreshed and went down a little ways to the spring to dip my feet in the water. My daughter came to join me which was beautiful, and then she went back of off to play pirate ships in one of the elms with her brother.
I sat with my husband on the mound by the well and took in the beautiful springtime around us. It was a bright, blustery day and the lasting memory I have is of the colour lime green. Everything was so vividly tinted in the newness of lime green and it was invigorating.
Blackthorn Blossom
There is a legend that the Cailleach, the ancient Celtic crone goddess, kept Brigid a prisoner all winter and that when Brigid escaped she brought about spring. The story goes that if Imbolc, February 1st, is a bright day that the Cailleach is out gathering firewood for a longer winter, and if the day is gloomy then she is still sleeping and winter is on it’s way out.
Imbolc this year was a beautiful day where we are and if we go by the legend then it gives us a clue as to why our blossom has been so late this year. I am a big fan of Matt Witt’s “To The Trees” In the April 5th edition, he wrote of our long wait for Spring blossom this year - “Even blackthorn is still considering its entrance, commonly found in a frantic flourish by the month of February – its white blossom’s growth has remained stunted and decorated their spines with what appear to be hundreds of plump white pearls; prepared flowers that are ready but not yet willing to fully unfurl.” Indeed our own flowering cherry which was in full swing this time last year has only poked out a leaf bud or two after its suffering in last summer’s heatwave. We do however have our first blossom on our new damson tree, I will continue to document its progress here.
It felt as if the blackthorn blossoms that line the Springline path arrived overnight, all of a sudden a line of beautiful froth and fizz lined the path between our home and the next village. I saw them driving into town one morning and knew we’d take the next opportunity to visit them. When we did it was the windiest day we’d had in a long time, still bright, still lime green but now with life bursting everywhere and holding on in a gale. Some nice imagery there. May you blossom and hold on until the time is right to change.
Ref. Matt Witt - To the Trees