Imbolc

Tonight is our Imbolc ritual. The first hint of spring. To our ancestors, the birth of the first lambs and knowing that they had made it safely through another winter.

For me, it's the time when I can feel the first hint of stirring in the earth, but only if I'm paying attention.

In fact, I've been avoiding paying attention these past few years - the city mutes everything and I tend to close in around myself and avoid sensing the energy of the land for fear of becoming complacent about being in this place I don't want to call home.

Now, I have resigned myself to being here for a time, and of making the best of it. Opening my senses once again and seeing what connection I can make with the land here despite the muted nature of the landscape in a city. I can't wait to have my license and be able to get out to the mountains again whenever I get the chance.

It is somewhat ironic too that there seems to be a wind and snow storm outside after the warmth of the last few days. Right when we celebrate what should be a hint of spring, there's a winter snowstorm. And yet, despite the snow, I can still feel a change within myself. A turning towards the light. A hint of a spark kindling in the earth beneath my feet, and while it will be a while yet before I sing the earth awake at the spring equinox, I will bless the seeds of spring now by connecting them to that hint of fire within the earth.