By Feline Charpentier, 6.2 Houseparent and Teacher of Outdoor Work
In Living with the Land, our Sixth Form course that launched at the start of this academic year, we talk about the changing of the seasons a lot. About paying attention to the landscape around us, about how the land can influence our own state of mind, and help us be more present. The old calendars which celebrated the earth cycles, marking the four solstices and the four cross quarters, are often good for reminding us of the inevitable change that occurs all around us.
In the traditional calendar we are approaching one of the four fire festivals, a cross quarter moment in the year, known as Imbolc (or St Bride’s, or Groundhog Day, in the US). The other fire festivals are Beltane, Lughnasadh and Samhain. Imbolc this year occurs on the night of 1 February, going into the morning of the 2nd.
Looking out of the window it can seem that all of life is dreary, grey and wet, that there is little to hope for. We are all trapped indoors, and it can feel that spring may never come. And yet, all of life lies dormant beneath the soil. The trees hold the promise of buds, there are snowdrops beginning to flower. It is a matter of weeks before signs of life will begin to show.
Imbolc literally refers to ‘in the belly’, referring originally to lambing season, which would be beginning about now for many farmers, to the fertility of the soil, the imminent arrival of spring and all the life it brings with it. Our ancestors would have spent time reflecting on the year behind them, and planning the planting for the year ahead. They would have seen this time of year as a time to rest, to recuperate, to sleep and store energy for what was to come.
In some way our current confinement is exactly that, a time to rest, and plan for what lies ahead.
Although we all wish things were different and we might even be wishing the time away, there is hope to be found in the small things, in the inevitable turning of the earth towards the spring, in the time we have been gifted to reflect, to recuperate, to make plans, to hope.
Imbolc brings with it the opportunity to reflect on the darkness of winter, to draw breath and take stock, to prepare for the newness of the spring and summer ahead. To plant seeds, both literally and metaphorically, for the future. In our online ODW lessons we are baking, reading, crafting and making, planting seeds, planning what we will grow this year, looking forward to when we are all here again.
So maybe, this Imbolc, why not write your intentions for the year ahead, plant some seeds, bring a few sprigs of hazel inside to see the buds come out, or even make a solar (or St. Brigid’s) cross if you can gather some Rushes outdoors. Find instructions here.