I can feel and see the turning of the days. I know my view well, the sun
sets at a different degree. It’s not so much the time it sets as to where over
the ocean it sinks. It’s a slow thing this, a gradual cooling of the mornings.
Subtle.
This is why I do what I do. I have been wanting to live the seasons – I
left the seasons when I was no longer a child. What a loss. In a building for
so many years, from 33 to 46 living by someone else’s demands when to go to
work and when to sleep and wake. There was no subtly to my life, winter to
spring, an unseen thing.
And here, here I am. Knowing the feel of the air of my skin what season
it is… hearing the birds, seeing where the sun rises. And feeling my body move
into another season… This led me to the thoughts about how much we lack seeing
real time lives play out around us.
We have moved so far away from the secure nurturing of close family and village.
There are no elders, there are no women pregnant around, or those raising young
ones.
The only thing that we see is exactly where we are instead of the tabloid
of the ages of Maiden, Mother, Crone playing out in front of us. This leaves us
without the knowledge of sharing all the stages that we enter. What a loss… so
that when there are life changes, moving from one Season into another, there is no knowledge of what we should
expect, feel or move into.
Let us start paying attention to the older stories, the fire side times.
Start looking around and thinking of how we can change this enormous loss of
identity of community.
(I’d still be the hermit witch at the end of the lane but I would be
serving my community)
