Across the south east the grain harvest begun in earnest. Seed sown into the rich fertile soil in autumn has slumbered throughout the dark days of winter, been stirred into life and quickened by gentle spring rains and ripened under the heat of the summer sun. Now with the coming of the Harvest Moon, the combine harvesters begin tirelessly mowing the fields up and down, up and down, day and night until the job is done.
At Michaelmas seed tumbles to the ground like falling stars, each carrying our wishes and hopes for the year ahead, and now at Lammas tide, armed with scythe and sickle, we reap those ambitions made manifest, the result of months of blood sweat and tears.
The spirit of the land is entombed within millions and millions of cereal grains either ‘trapped’ in corn dollies showering blessings upon the hearth and barn or baked as nutritious loaves for sharing, devouring and absorbing…The cycle complete.
The mysteries associated with this time of year are rich and complex and equally diverse. We are all created from the land and just as we devour and ingest each loaf of bread or cake made from the ground up bones of John Barleycorn so too will we one day be interred within the ground there to rot and decompose, the constituent parts of our bodies being absorbed back into the land, our souls going on to another state of being… We too transform just as the spirit of the land itself transforms from raw power, to life giving grains of wheat or corn, and then flour and then us. We are all part of the sacred cycles and interwoven connections, connections without beginnings and without ends… We are the land.