It’s a cool, gray day here on the Oregon coast, a bit of a disappointment after the clear, bright sunshine that’s blessed us in between storms several times this past week. We’re entering the second month of the year and tonight/tomorrow is a holy day that the Celts called Imbolc (meaning “in milk”), the high-church Christians call Candlemas, and the Irish call St. Bridgit’s (or St. Bride’s) Day.
The Christian tradition weaves all these together: it’s 6 weeks after Christmas, Jesus’ birth date, and, acknowledging the Hebrew requirement for a woman to be purified after a birth, the Roman church honors Mary’s visit to the temple pool for the purification ritual. The Irish goddess/saint Bridgit (also spelled Birget and Bride and pronounced “Breeghd”) is portrayed as Mary’s midwife, and both of them are portrayed as carrying candles to the purification ceremony, with Bridgit holding Mary’s candle while Mary is submerged in the holy pool. One Christian tradition is to take last year’s palm leaf (from Palm Sunday) and make it into Bridget’s cross.
In the Celtic/Wiccan tradition, the goddess (called, not surprisingly, Bridgit, in many lands) is in her Maiden form at this time of year. She is virginal and pure; innocent and naïve; excitedly awaiting all the delights that life has to offer. In local gatherings she is embodied by a young woman wearing a long white dress and may wear or carry snowdrops and a few tender greens, which are often the indicator of the season (which is why we call young virgin women wearing long white dresses and carrying flowers, brides). She is usually accompanied by one of the new lambs, calves, or kid-goats which are just beginning to be born at this time of year – a sign that fresh milk and cheese are now available to people who’ve been living on preserved foods from last year’s harvest.
The Christian tradition weaves all these together: it’s 6 weeks after Christmas, Jesus’ birth date, and, acknowledging the Hebrew requirement for a woman to be purified after a birth, the Roman church honors Mary’s visit to the temple pool for the purification ritual. The Irish goddess/saint Bridgit (also spelled Birget and Bride and pronounced “Breeghd”) is portrayed as Mary’s midwife, and both of them are portrayed as carrying candles to the purification ceremony, with Bridgit holding Mary’s candle while Mary is submerged in the holy pool. One Christian tradition is to take last year’s palm leaf (from Palm Sunday) and make it into Bridget’s cross.
In the Celtic/Wiccan tradition, the goddess (called, not surprisingly, Bridgit, in many lands) is in her Maiden form at this time of year. She is virginal and pure; innocent and naïve; excitedly awaiting all the delights that life has to offer. In local gatherings she is embodied by a young woman wearing a long white dress and may wear or carry snowdrops and a few tender greens, which are often the indicator of the season (which is why we call young virgin women wearing long white dresses and carrying flowers, brides). She is usually accompanied by one of the new lambs, calves, or kid-goats which are just beginning to be born at this time of year – a sign that fresh milk and cheese are now available to people who’ve been living on preserved foods from last year’s harvest.
In all these traditions, it’s a time to wear white and honor the purification that is winter –the messiness of the earth is blanketed in white snow over most of the northern hemisphere, and the deep frost has killed off many of the troublesome insects, bacteria, and plants that are part of rural life. It’s a time to begin to connect with other people again, after being stuck inside through winter storms. It’s a time to recognize that the worst of winter is past and to look for early signs of spring.
Which is the reason for “Ground Hog’s Day” at this point in the season. One early sign is the emergence of small mammals from their dens. If they come out and stay out, then spring is definitely on its way. If they come out, sniff around, take a look, and go back in to sleep some more, then it’s best to plan for a few more weeks of snow and ice.
And that’s the indicator of whether to tighten one’s belt and prepare to fast: the annual spring fast that has been adopted by the Christians (who call it Lent as part of the preparation for the full spring of life that is Easter – more about that in another writing). This fasting may have a spiritual context, but it’s very practical in the life of a winter-bound community. If, in fact, there will be several more weeks of snow and ice, then people must make their stored food last as long as possible – so they cut back to the minimum, and carefully ration the milk the mother-critters are producing for them, supplemented with whatever fish can be caught through the ice or in thawing streams.
Over the next few weeks, while the snow and ice turn to slush and mud, dirt roads are virtually impassable, greatly reducing trips to other homes and towns, and fields are impossible to plow or plant, so there’s not much to actively do. Waiting for spring therefore became a time of little action and more inward focus: dreaming and planning and praying, studying, meditating, and contemplating.
Which is the reason for “Ground Hog’s Day” at this point in the season. One early sign is the emergence of small mammals from their dens. If they come out and stay out, then spring is definitely on its way. If they come out, sniff around, take a look, and go back in to sleep some more, then it’s best to plan for a few more weeks of snow and ice.
And that’s the indicator of whether to tighten one’s belt and prepare to fast: the annual spring fast that has been adopted by the Christians (who call it Lent as part of the preparation for the full spring of life that is Easter – more about that in another writing). This fasting may have a spiritual context, but it’s very practical in the life of a winter-bound community. If, in fact, there will be several more weeks of snow and ice, then people must make their stored food last as long as possible – so they cut back to the minimum, and carefully ration the milk the mother-critters are producing for them, supplemented with whatever fish can be caught through the ice or in thawing streams.
Over the next few weeks, while the snow and ice turn to slush and mud, dirt roads are virtually impassable, greatly reducing trips to other homes and towns, and fields are impossible to plow or plant, so there’s not much to actively do. Waiting for spring therefore became a time of little action and more inward focus: dreaming and planning and praying, studying, meditating, and contemplating.
Here on the coast, we haven’t had much of a winter yet, except for the early freeze in December. The pansies, daisies, and primroses that survived that continue to bloom, and my kale is just getting ready to blossom, having provided delicious greens since August. We can look forward to several more weeks of rain, with a few warmish, sunny days in between storm cycles, with typically 2-3 summery days around Washington’s birthday, the 22nd. There would normally be one good snowfall across Oregon around Lincoln’s birthday, the 12th, and often another here on the coast near the equinox in March – we’ll see if El Nino and the undersea volcanoes that are heating up the nearby ocean change that this year.
Still, there’s no signs of furry critters – no rabbits on the lawn at Surfrider in Depoe Bay; no raccoons or squirrels visible along the roadways. The ravens and gulls have stuck around all winter, and, surprisingly also, the hummingbirds. A few small birds are showing themselves – one was scratching around for dried berries under the bushes in my thicket yesterday afternoon, trying to stay out of sight while I cleaned up downed-branches from our latest storm.
With all this in mind, tonight and tomorrow I will light white candles and give thanks for the awareness of new possibilities that this season represents, for the life-giving rain and the heartwarming flowers, and the ongoing Presence of Light, Love, Wisdom and Peace that we’re truly honoring on every holy day.
Still, there’s no signs of furry critters – no rabbits on the lawn at Surfrider in Depoe Bay; no raccoons or squirrels visible along the roadways. The ravens and gulls have stuck around all winter, and, surprisingly also, the hummingbirds. A few small birds are showing themselves – one was scratching around for dried berries under the bushes in my thicket yesterday afternoon, trying to stay out of sight while I cleaned up downed-branches from our latest storm.
With all this in mind, tonight and tomorrow I will light white candles and give thanks for the awareness of new possibilities that this season represents, for the life-giving rain and the heartwarming flowers, and the ongoing Presence of Light, Love, Wisdom and Peace that we’re truly honoring on every holy day.
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