A Hint of Autumn

Last night, amid great fanfare, the first hint of Autumn arrived, in the form of a clear, cool breeze. The fanfare was both natural, in a sudden and violent thunderstorm, and man-made, in a brilliant shower of fireworks over the lake.

Last night, I celebrated the Harvest Moon, though She was not visible in the cloudy sky. Today I am making preparations for Mabon, the full harvest. I came home with armloads of wheat and other seasonal grasses. I have decorated a grapevine wreath for the front door, added a festive swag to my besom, and have an overflowing vase of grasses and eucalyptus on my herb cabinet.

All that remains is planning the harvest menu, getting candles for the altar, and deciding what form my sabbat will take. Although I decorate my home with a vengeance, I go a bit light on the ritual itself. I’m not one for grand words or gestures. I am a visual person, and the whole process of collecting and arranging seasonal items is ritual, as far as I am concerned. I will feast, sing and dance. Then, sitting quietly by candlelight, I will listen to the whispers of the Green Man and Gaia.

Leaves turning,
Rich with color,
Full of knowledge,
Burning bright.

Flames glowing,
Cider steaming,
Sing the harvest,
Dance goodnight.