Winter Magic

Another month has come and gone and the Wheel of the Year is turning ever on. Alban Arthan was a magical time. I was fortunate to be able to lead a program about the Winter Solstice at the nature center, which more than 100 people attended. We made evergreen wreaths, beeswax candles and tiny Yule logs, people tried fire-by-friction and I told stories as the Green Man. The following days were filled with special memories, shared by family and friends.

Now, I am ready for snow. Except for a storm on Mackinac Island and some other parts of Northern Michigan (which we had to drive through), much of our State has been without snow all winter. I love snowshoeing and the soft, white blanket that covers Mother Earth this time of year. It muffles city sounds and reflects the light of the moon to guide my way. I need its cleansing power, to cover the dust and grime of a tired landscape and to illumine my soul. Every flake a miracle of nature, every snowdrift, sculpted by sharp winter winds, a beautiful piece of artwork. 

I also need to take the time to curl up in front of the woodstove with a cup of tea and a snowstorm raging outside. To delve into the Gwersi of my Bardic studies, to focus and reflect on the miracles and mysteries of the Earth Mother and all her creatures. 

Even without snow, I was fortunate to have several amazing encounters with some animals over the past couple of weeks. My brother and I spent three days searching for Snowy Owls. There have been a plethora of reports from across North America of this far northern species making their way south this winter. Finally, on our third day in misty rain and fog we spotted an owl, along a lonely country road, perched on the roof of a house! Further down the same road, we came across another sitting on a short power pole. 

At the Nature Center, a family of River Otters have also been spotted numerous times this past fall and early winter. We headed out to the pond one day and hiked around it. After finding many scat piles of fish scales, we finally spotted two otters who quickly swam away. Quietly making our way along the shore, we were lucky to see them both swimming and exploring holes of an old beaver lodge. One was especially curious about us and it chirruped and snuffed at us several times before disappearing into its hole. 

Finally, my family was lucky to see a Pileated Woodpecker along a road on Mackinac Island. Though I wasn't able to get close enough for a picture, I later discovered another along a trail, patiently working on a tree. These crow-sized woodpeckers are the largest in North America (if the Ivory-billed is extinct), and seeing one is always a special experience.

May your days ahead, wherever you are, be filled with the cleansing power of Nature. Whether it's a blanket of snow, the warm sun overhead, wind in the treetops or the burble of a stream, let the magic and mystery of the land soak into your soul and bring you peace. Now, I leave you with part of a delightful poem, by Claude McKay.

The Snow Fairy

Throughout the afternoon I watched them there, 

Snow-fairies falling, falling from the sky, 

Whirling fantastic in the misty air, 

Contending fierce for space supremacy. 

And they flew down a mightier force at night, 

As though in heaven there was revolt and riot, 

And they, frail things had taken panic flight 

Down to the calm earth seeking peace and quiet. 

I went to bed and rose at early dawn 

To see them huddled together in a heap, 

Each merged into the other upon the lawn, 

Worn out by the sharp struggle, fast asleep. 

The sun shone brightly on them half the day, 

By night they stealthily had stol'n away. 

Yours under the Snowy Oaks,

Skybranch /|\

The Winds of Awen

In Druid philosophy, Awen is the creative spark, the vibrating field of energy which inspires poets and sages to reach beyond themselves to something that connects us all. It's actually a Welsh term for "poetic inspiration," especially used to describe the divine inspiration of bards. 

A Symbol of Awen, the three rays
of light from the heavens.

The Sphere of Protection ritual which I perform daily includes invoking the protection of Awen above, below and within me. I do this outdoors whenever possible, to feel closer to all living things. It's a powerful moment each day as I focus my mind on banishing negativity and opening myself to the possibilities of the universe. As I conduct this part of the ritual, I've noticed recently it almost always seems coincide with a breeze blowing through the leaves. I've felt its energy flow through me too.

In an effort to learn more about Awen, I looked up the root parts of the word on the "magical" world of Wikipedia. What I found makes a whole lot of sense: "Awen derives from the Indo-European root *-uel, meaning 'to blow', and has the same root as the Welsh word awel meaning 'breeze.'"

Our connection to the Spirit of Life and the forces of creation in the Universe is not just some fantastical notion of Science Fiction or the mad Fisher King. We are all connected, always, and it's time to start paying attention!

A parallel of this idea comes to my mind in regards to watching birds. I've been an avid birder since age 10 when I started my "life list." My family all piled in the car and traveled to Point Pelee National Park in Canada each Mother's Day to experience the wonders of spring migration. Over the past three decades,  I've come to learn about and appreciate hundreds of different species, from hummingbirds to eagles and all shapes and sizes in between. Over the past few years in particular, I've also come to learn more and more birds by their song and can walk a woodland path and pick out half a dozen species in the surrounding trees which remain hidden to view.

Most people, I've found, pay very little attention to our feathered friends. Surely, birding is a popular pastime and many people have feeders outside their window. But ask 10 people and I bet only three or four would call themselves a "birder" and even fewer would be able to identify birds by their songs. And in case you haven't noticed, we thankfully live in a world just FULL of birds in every conceivable habitat across the globe.

A Sanderling on the Lake Superior Shore

To me, it's as if most people are walking around with blinders on when it comes to our avian friends. How can you not be amazed at the brilliant rainbow colors of the warblers who live in our marshes and woodlands?! It's not that folks try to ignore them, but mostly birds just don't register at all, almost like they're not even there. 

I'm learning that our connection to Awen is just the same. We all have the ability to be inspired by our  connection to the web of creation. But most of us ignore it, just as if this magical bond doesn't exist at all. I've found it takes practice, as Yoda said, to "unlearn what you have learned." I think it's high time, however, that we all open up to our deep connection with the Web of Life, before we destroy it all in spite of ourselves. 

Skybranch  /|\