The year hasn't started yet, not really. In the original Roman calendar, the year started with March and ended in December. The in-between period just wasn't part of any month or year. Which is a curious idea. They would have intercalaries all the time when the calendar and the seasons were getting out of sync. But this extended intercalary is something I could get into. Imagine if we had these two months off? I suppose in the old agrarian days, this might have been as quiet as the year was going to get. There's nothing to harvest and nothing to tend. Just stay warm and fed.
Februa was a Roman purification feast for the start of spring, so when February was created they gave it that name. If you think about it, Lent is also a purification of sorts, and it always ends in the spring. There's also the phenomenon of spring cleaning, which exists because one can't really open the windows and doors in the winter in places like New England. Though we have those odd days here and there, and they are their own celebration. Febris also means fever, which I haven't decided how to absorb.
Today is Imbolc - Brigid's Day, the start of Celtic Spring. Spring starts earlier in Europe, it seems. I have it on good authority that one can see people mowing grass in parts of Ireland in February. We woke up to snow this morning, so clearly all of this has to be taken with a North American grain of salt. Brigid was goddess, later a saint, and patron of poetry, fertility and healing, among other things: including sacred fires. She may have started as a dawn goddess, and it makes sense to celebrate her now. The days are getting longer. This is the dawn of the year. It's time to wake up!
Imbolc, or i mBolg in modern Irish, means "in the belly", referring to the lambs who are yet to be born. I like to think it can also mean that this is a time to plan for the year ahead, the real year. Let the ideas gestate, try out different thoughts.
It's also been thought to derive from words meaning "cleaning" (there's that spring cleaning again!), "milk", and "budding". In any case, we're halfway between the depths of the winter solstice and the spring equinox, when day overtakes night. Things are stirring. I swear last weekend I saw the forsythia seemed to be starting to yellow. The bare stalks always seem to get a yellow tint as they get closer to flowering.
Tomorrow is Candlemas, which finishes the forty-day period that starts with Christmas. It's meant to commemorate the presentation of Jesus at the Temple in Jerusalem. It's called by that name because of the tradition of holy candles (there's the sacred fire) to symbolise light returning to the world. Apparently, it's also a tradition to eat crepes, whose round shape recalls the sun. All the greens you may have brought in for Christmas (wreaths, garlands, the tree, etc.) should be taken down. It's a new season and the year is about to start!
And I haven't even mentioned Groundhog Day...
All of which is to say that it seems a good day to take up blogging again. It's good to have one island of my own to cultivate while the Republic burns. At least during this intercalary period. Let the ideas and plans of action gestate, get the house and hearth in order, appeal to the powers that move us, and then prepare for the long days of summer, as far away as they seem.
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