July 9th, 2011: New beginnings...
Jul. 21st, 2011 05:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ferineThe Saturday of July 9th was a fortunate window between severe thunderstorms and flash floods. It was one of those days when everything settles into place perfectly, when every sight is more fantastic than the last, when all happens at the right moment.
That morning a package arrived, containing some of the elements I intended to use in the evening--namely, New Beginnings essential oil. Also a new permanent addition to my altar, this lovely Artemis icon, which was clearly inspired by my favorite depiction from Disney's Fantasia.
I brought a few items with me that I felt needed to be shed or recycled in nature. Then the boys and I set off to break new ground; indeed, where the last series of photos left off. Rather than walk all that way from the 104th Open Space, we drove to the trail's new start. The drive took fifteen minutes... amazing how long it took for us to traverse that length on foot (and wheels), back and forth, on June 4th.
The new expanse of trail, specifically designed for birding, was achingly beautiful. Signs of recent flooding were abundant; splashes of sandy mud on the thankfully mostly dry cement trail, bushes and reeds flattened, debris over much of the grass (bits of driftwood, smooth stones, etc.) Though it was the first beautiful, bright day in awhile, we had to be watchful for sudden rain. Amazingly, despite some rather dramatic clouds, we were only lightly sprinkled on twice.
Pumped up, we returned home, had dinner, and watched some shows I'd recorded. During it all it stormed and we weren't sure if we'd be able to do the bonfire. Around 9:00 PM I was overcome with the need to burn out the old, burn in the new. We went out in the courtyard and set up the copper fire pit. Erik had brung us a good bundle of firewood last month, and it was kept thoroughly dry in the garage. Curiously, the rain let up entirely. Even the cloud cover parted, allowing the waxing moon to shine down upon us.
Antonio anointed me with the New Beginnings oil; a thumb to each eyelid, my forehead, and my lips. I threw some candles that represented past situations or negative connotations into the flames. This particular fire was enchanted, blessed: it burned brighter and hotter than any other fire we've burned in the pit prior. Jay added a braid of sweet grass to it and sang softly. As the flames calmed, we opened the scrumptious elderberry wine that Tori picked up for the Summer Solstice. We each had a swig in thanks for the wondrous day and night. We gave the fire and my beloved apple tree a taste, too. Seemed rude not to. >;-)
Tomorrow? The photos!
That morning a package arrived, containing some of the elements I intended to use in the evening--namely, New Beginnings essential oil. Also a new permanent addition to my altar, this lovely Artemis icon, which was clearly inspired by my favorite depiction from Disney's Fantasia.
I brought a few items with me that I felt needed to be shed or recycled in nature. Then the boys and I set off to break new ground; indeed, where the last series of photos left off. Rather than walk all that way from the 104th Open Space, we drove to the trail's new start. The drive took fifteen minutes... amazing how long it took for us to traverse that length on foot (and wheels), back and forth, on June 4th.
The new expanse of trail, specifically designed for birding, was achingly beautiful. Signs of recent flooding were abundant; splashes of sandy mud on the thankfully mostly dry cement trail, bushes and reeds flattened, debris over much of the grass (bits of driftwood, smooth stones, etc.) Though it was the first beautiful, bright day in awhile, we had to be watchful for sudden rain. Amazingly, despite some rather dramatic clouds, we were only lightly sprinkled on twice.
Pumped up, we returned home, had dinner, and watched some shows I'd recorded. During it all it stormed and we weren't sure if we'd be able to do the bonfire. Around 9:00 PM I was overcome with the need to burn out the old, burn in the new. We went out in the courtyard and set up the copper fire pit. Erik had brung us a good bundle of firewood last month, and it was kept thoroughly dry in the garage. Curiously, the rain let up entirely. Even the cloud cover parted, allowing the waxing moon to shine down upon us.
Antonio anointed me with the New Beginnings oil; a thumb to each eyelid, my forehead, and my lips. I threw some candles that represented past situations or negative connotations into the flames. This particular fire was enchanted, blessed: it burned brighter and hotter than any other fire we've burned in the pit prior. Jay added a braid of sweet grass to it and sang softly. As the flames calmed, we opened the scrumptious elderberry wine that Tori picked up for the Summer Solstice. We each had a swig in thanks for the wondrous day and night. We gave the fire and my beloved apple tree a taste, too. Seemed rude not to. >;-)
Tomorrow? The photos!
