I admit it. I’m not a fan of our British Winter. It’s nice at first at Samhain when the nights draw in – that feeling of being held within the dark embrace of the Crone, and the stillness that allows me to actually stop, remember, and recharge – but by now I’m ready to get going again, and January can feel like a real grind.
It might not be politically correct to say that within Pagan circles, particularly when one of the gifts of the Pagan Wheel of the Year allows us to connect fully to each of the revolving seasons, but there it is. If I’m honest I spend much of late Winter searching for small signs of the approaching Spring, the sight of Snowdrops, Hazel catkins, fresh Hogweed, fills me with hope and excitement for the coming year. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve really tried to get to know and love Winter, but maybe it’s that I’m a Summer child, born in June, or maybe it’s the genetics of my two distant South African ancestors, that just makes my whole being yearn for Spring and Summer; to look each day towards the ark of the Sun to see it grow higher, and the sky each evening grow lighter with each passing day.
So here’s to the Sun, the life giver, the Bright Wanderer. I watch you as the plants of Albion watch you, and in this time of dark and cold, I yearn for your return, for the time of the Equinox, after which I know that I will once more feel your glorious warmth upon my skin, and smell warm earth once more!!