Thoughts on the Feast of Imbolc or Candlemas February 2, 2010
I have been walking up the river canyon trail today, on the morning of Imbolc, the Northern European agricultural celebration. It is also the Christian Feast of Candlemas or “Mass of the lighting of the candles.”
And truly, this morning is filled with light. The German and Scottish tradition holds that on this day of Imbolc, or Groundhog’s Day, if the creatures coming out of hibernation to sniff the air and check out the weather see their shadows in the sunlight, they will return to their burrows for 8 weeks of “twa wintertime” or a “second” Winter. If, though, they should spy gray skies and see no shadow—they will soon leave their burrows behind, and Spring will arrive early this year. (See today’s AHHA! FACTOR for more info.)
This information may seem counter-intuitive, but Nature knows. And Nature has taught agrarian cultures to watch and listen closely to our friends-in-fur and hoof. This wisdom can, not only keep us alive, but also bring us good harvests.
Nature has taught agrarian cultures to watch and listen closely to our friends-in-fur and hoof.
Seeking an answer about Spring’s return, and lacking groundhogs in the Rockies, I follow the tracks and scat of an unidentified rodent, perhaps a vole or deer mouse, who has burrowed up out of her snow-covered nest. I see the little crosshatchings of paws as they scurry up a large boulder, just under the stony outcropping of caves above. Here, the prints pause, seem to circle around several times, then retrace their path back into the snow and I assume, the earth.
Well, she apparently woke up as I have this morning, to brilliant sun on great drifts of diamond-encrusted snow. And, in her singular rodent wisdom she has returned safely to her burrow for two more months of feeding from ever-diminishing stores of roots and berries.
As I continue along the mountain track I see a brilliant red swathe painted across the pristine canvas of new-fallen snow. I look over the ledge to my right and see long drag-marks from far below leading up to the path. Then I look just above and to the left, and see what appear to be the ribcage, entrails and front leg of a deer or cow elk. I get the sense that I am being watched and see a lone coyote poised and observing me from the shade of an aspen stand not far away. I scan the scree-field and escarpment above him that lead up to the caves set into the side of DoubleTop Mountain. THERE! I see her. The lioness pauses, head bent toward her kill. She looks down at me for a brief moment as she hauls the hindquarters of the deer to her lair in the caves.
There! I see her. The lioness pauses, head bent toward her kill.
Everything is as still as silenced heartbeats. We are a still life, the coyote, the mountain lion and I, a tableau mort, at a triangle of life and death. The coyote is waiting at a respectful distance for the lion to accomplish her butchering task. Then he will dart in and see to the leftovers. I, the two-legged, am mesmerized by the scene telegraphed in the snow before me. I too am still, respectfully waiting until the lioness disappears into the cave. I will only move when she has accomplished her tiring but fruitful task.
I must have missed this hunting drama by less than 15 minutes! The blood is fresh and what remains of the carcass is still steaming in the bright, early morning cold.
I remember that today is IMBOLC, the Celtic celebration of the first birthing of the lambs, the milk coming-in for mother elk, deer, ewes and cows. And all this springing up of life is dedicated to the Irish Goddess Brigit. She is the patron of mother’s milk, poets, smiths and inspiration—the Mother of the birthing of creativity from fire! This day vividly displays the reality of the cycles of life energy.
The local version of the groundhog is the golden marmot. Yet if he, like the deer mouse digs his way to the surface from his safe burrow in the earth in order to sniff the air for spring—he is in grave danger. The marmot has only enough body fat and stored calories to see him through to True Spring in late March or early April. If he spends those energies, lured by the call of a February’s False Spring where there is no food to replenish him, he will undoubtedly die before April. This is a law of Nature that I learned the first winter I spent in the Elk Mountains:
Conserve energy and replenish in kind—or die.
Conserve energy and replenish in kind—or die! What a teaching this is! If we put energy out to others and do not receive the same kind and quality of energy back in return—we will be physically, psychically and undoubtedly, spiritually drained. We may not make it to renewal without some dire consequences. If we continue to give ourselves away to those who selfishly consume or emotionally devour us, we will surely exhaust our reserves. The lioness will eat and then rest for a long time after she is full. She will recharge with the appropriate resources from the exertion of hunting, killing and hauling that deer. The coyote patiently conserves energy, waiting for the hard work to be done by the lion. Then, he recharges with what the lion considers the leftovers. The magpies will wait—not so patiently—until the coyote is satisfied, then finish off the feast.
I and the marmot, hopefully, have not wasted our vital energies this day. He remains appropriately asleep deep in the boulders below me waiting dreamily to rise in the True Spring. I have taken a morning walk, celebrated the light of inspiration and life, AND returned replenished with the story that I am now sharing with you.
And truly, this morning is filled with light. The German and Scottish tradition holds that on this day of Imbolc, or Groundhog’s Day, if the creatures coming out of hibernation to sniff the air and check out the weather see their shadows in the sunlight, they will return to their burrows for 8 weeks of “twa wintertime” or a “second” Winter. If, though, they should spy gray skies and see no shadow—they will soon leave their burrows behind, and Spring will arrive early this year. (See today’s AHHA! FACTOR for more info.)
This information may seem counter-intuitive, but Nature knows. And Nature has taught agrarian cultures to watch and listen closely to our friends-in-fur and hoof. This wisdom can, not only keep us alive, but also bring us good harvests.
Nature has taught agrarian cultures to watch and listen closely to our friends-in-fur and hoof.
Seeking an answer about Spring’s return, and lacking groundhogs in the Rockies, I follow the tracks and scat of an unidentified rodent, perhaps a vole or deer mouse, who has burrowed up out of her snow-covered nest. I see the little crosshatchings of paws as they scurry up a large boulder, just under the stony outcropping of caves above. Here, the prints pause, seem to circle around several times, then retrace their path back into the snow and I assume, the earth.
Well, she apparently woke up as I have this morning, to brilliant sun on great drifts of diamond-encrusted snow. And, in her singular rodent wisdom she has returned safely to her burrow for two more months of feeding from ever-diminishing stores of roots and berries.
As I continue along the mountain track I see a brilliant red swathe painted across the pristine canvas of new-fallen snow. I look over the ledge to my right and see long drag-marks from far below leading up to the path. Then I look just above and to the left, and see what appear to be the ribcage, entrails and front leg of a deer or cow elk. I get the sense that I am being watched and see a lone coyote poised and observing me from the shade of an aspen stand not far away. I scan the scree-field and escarpment above him that lead up to the caves set into the side of DoubleTop Mountain. THERE! I see her. The lioness pauses, head bent toward her kill. She looks down at me for a brief moment as she hauls the hindquarters of the deer to her lair in the caves.
There! I see her. The lioness pauses, head bent toward her kill.
Everything is as still as silenced heartbeats. We are a still life, the coyote, the mountain lion and I, a tableau mort, at a triangle of life and death. The coyote is waiting at a respectful distance for the lion to accomplish her butchering task. Then he will dart in and see to the leftovers. I, the two-legged, am mesmerized by the scene telegraphed in the snow before me. I too am still, respectfully waiting until the lioness disappears into the cave. I will only move when she has accomplished her tiring but fruitful task.
I must have missed this hunting drama by less than 15 minutes! The blood is fresh and what remains of the carcass is still steaming in the bright, early morning cold.
I remember that today is IMBOLC, the Celtic celebration of the first birthing of the lambs, the milk coming-in for mother elk, deer, ewes and cows. And all this springing up of life is dedicated to the Irish Goddess Brigit. She is the patron of mother’s milk, poets, smiths and inspiration—the Mother of the birthing of creativity from fire! This day vividly displays the reality of the cycles of life energy.
The local version of the groundhog is the golden marmot. Yet if he, like the deer mouse digs his way to the surface from his safe burrow in the earth in order to sniff the air for spring—he is in grave danger. The marmot has only enough body fat and stored calories to see him through to True Spring in late March or early April. If he spends those energies, lured by the call of a February’s False Spring where there is no food to replenish him, he will undoubtedly die before April. This is a law of Nature that I learned the first winter I spent in the Elk Mountains:
Conserve energy and replenish in kind—or die.
Conserve energy and replenish in kind—or die! What a teaching this is! If we put energy out to others and do not receive the same kind and quality of energy back in return—we will be physically, psychically and undoubtedly, spiritually drained. We may not make it to renewal without some dire consequences. If we continue to give ourselves away to those who selfishly consume or emotionally devour us, we will surely exhaust our reserves. The lioness will eat and then rest for a long time after she is full. She will recharge with the appropriate resources from the exertion of hunting, killing and hauling that deer. The coyote patiently conserves energy, waiting for the hard work to be done by the lion. Then, he recharges with what the lion considers the leftovers. The magpies will wait—not so patiently—until the coyote is satisfied, then finish off the feast.
I and the marmot, hopefully, have not wasted our vital energies this day. He remains appropriately asleep deep in the boulders below me waiting dreamily to rise in the True Spring. I have taken a morning walk, celebrated the light of inspiration and life, AND returned replenished with the story that I am now sharing with you.