Crann Mor Feirm: Imbas

Nin Ash Feb10, 2008

Sun, 10 Feb 2008 12:48:15 GMT

Nin Ash

“No prize in beauty higher than the sky,

Wider than spear can shoot or seer can scry.

The fork that wefts the web can straighter grow

Than any weaving woven here below.” *

Another shuttle launched into space this week. This mission is carrying a science lab which will be added onto the space station. Astronauts have been my heroes since I was a little boy following the Apollo Moon missions, watching Neil Armstrong step onto the moon on our neighbor’s TV (they had color TV), proudly wearing my space watch which had a space capsule orbiting around the dial as a second hand. The new science lab promises benefits for mankind. Molecules behave differently in the zero gravity of space and space science has already provided us new technologies and products. New medicines and cures for severe illnesses can be created in space which are not possible to create here on earth. “Forks…can straighter grow” in the upper realm of space.

Our Celtic ancestors were familiar with an upper world where superior tools, cures and wisdoms could be appropriated by those who were brave and wise enough to make the journey. I admire those today who are pioneering the effort to venture into the frontier of the upper world. My hope is great that the wisdom found there will be a great benefit to our world here.

* from “Ogham Wisdom Sticks” by Caitlin Matthews

Imbolc Triad

Sun, 03 Feb 2008 13:44:14 GMT

To Brigit and Aongus Og

Your light increases,

Your warmth, it pleases,

Your love never ceases.

Night Sky

Sun, 03 Feb 2008 13:13:03 GMT

“No prize in beauty higher than the sky,

Wider than spear can shoot or seer can scry;

The fork that wefts the web will straighter grow

Than any weaving woven here below.” *

I have the opportunity to be outside driving in my Jeep for several hours every workday in the wee hours of the morning. At all times of the year but especially during the winter when the air is dry and clear the night sky dazzles me with its brilliance. The moon, the planets, the stars never cease to amaze me with their beauty. Sitting by a campfire on a cool, Fall evening watching meteors flash across the sky is a spectacular bonus. Like most, I suppose, since I was a child I have been mesmerized by the night sky. Beyond its beauty, its magnificence, the night sky with its Billions and Billions (remember Carl Sagan?) of stars, planets and galaxies speaks to me of infinite possibilities. The scope of it all is beyond what my mind can comprehend. It only takes a few moments gazing into that sparkling expanse to renew my perspective of my life, my place in the world and of life on our own planet. It is humbling and inspiring at the same time. The night sky has captured our imagination through the history of Man like nothing else. Small wonder the ancient Irish included it in the sacred three of Land, Sea and Sky.

* from Caitlin Matthews “Ogham Wisdom Sticks”.

Whence the Seed was Strewed

Sun, 27 Jan 2008 13:10:00 GMT

Uir Heather

Deep underground there sleeps the summer’s brood,

Waking at sun’s lance whence the seed was strewed.

Shrouding the dead one, winter turns her face,

Welcoming growth within earth’s dark embrace. *

The dispersal of seed receives a lot of attention in the plant kingdom. It is interesting to me to note how plants have evolved to exploit the various agents of dispersal available. The Dandelion and many plants like it create tiny seeds attached to fluffy dander that can be carried easily by the wind. The Maple trees use the wind, too, but having a much larger seed they create the familiar webbed key that we see spiraling through the air. Other plants like the Flowering Tick Trefoil attach themselves to animal fur as they rub against the plants while searching for food. Still other seeds hope to be ingested by an animal and be execrated at a different location. And then there are plants which are content to let their seeds fall nearby and stay close to home. The Walnut trees, however, seem to like a buffer zone. They secrete an enzyme into the soil around the base of the tree which prevents other trees, including Walnut trees, from growing too close.

I am reminded that plants are very sensitive to their environment and adapt themselves to use the available agents to accomplish their purpose. A similar sensitivity and wisdom would serve me well.

* from “Celtic Wisdom Sticks” by Caitlin Matthews.

Winter Turns Her Face

Sun, 20 Jan 2008 17:08:42 GMT

Winter Turns Her Face

Uir Heather

Deep underground there sleeps the summer’s brood,

Waking at sun’s lance whence the seed was strewed.

Shrouding the dead one, winter turns her face,

Welcoming growth within earth’s dark embrace. *

Here in the mid-latitudes we have the privilege of seeing Winter’s face. On this January morning she is staring at us head on – the temperature is 8F. We tend to avoid Winter’s face. We stay indoors to avoid the coldness of her stare, the gloom on her brow. Winter must be a lonely woman – few will look her in the eye. We hunker down our heads against her cold breath. We wrap ourselves in scarves and hoods so that the only thing visible as we brace ourselves against the face-numbing chill are our feet trudging through the snow and ice.

The ancient tales speak of an old, haggard woman – a hag, as the personification of Winter. Clearly our perception of Winter is not a pleasant one. Winter is an uninvited, unwelcome guest that must be uncomfortably endured. And yet, in the ironies and paradoxes that color our world, we find that when kindness is shown to the forsaken magic can happen. Can we find it within us to see the beauty in Winter’s face? Does Winter represent the many in our world who are forsaken? Do I see the beauty in their faces? Can we welcome Winter as a friend? If we can, perhaps a new beauty will be seen in our faces.

* from “Celtic Wisdom Sticks” by Caitlin Matthews.

Jan 13, 2008 Uir Heather

Sun, 13 Jan 2008 12:12:07 GMT

Deep underground there sleeps the summer’s brood,

Waking at sun’s lance whence the seed was strewed.

Shrouding the dead one, winter turns her face,

Welcoming growth within earth’s dark embrace. *

I see a tiny seed lying in the ground on a cold winter’s day. I see a ray of sunlight lighting the surface of the ground just above the seed. Every day the sunlight will linger a little longer upon that spot of earth. Every day the ground may get a little warmer until the sunlight triggers the seed to germinate. The power of the sun.

I am reminded that it is the duration of sunlight which triggers the growth process of plants. Now, in the middle of January with about 10 hours of sunlight each day the grass is green and healthy but it is not growing taller. Our whole growing season is mostly the function of how much sunlight, daylight we receive.

I wonder what the affect of changing amounts of daylight through the year is upon humans and other mammals and animals. I know there have been studies about the psychological affects and even chemical changes in our bodies. I imagine artificial lighting mitigates the affect somewhat but I doubt that it can fully compensate for the shorter days of winter.

I think a great amount of behavior in the natural world has been attributed to the daily duration of sunlight. It’s a phenomenon that can be taken for granted, easily forgotten. I am thankful for this reminder of the power of the sun, the power of light.

* from Catlin Matthews “Celtic Wisdom Sticks”

Jan 6, 2008 Uir Heather

Sun, 06 Jan 2008 13:17:35 GMT

“Deep underground there sleeps the summer’s brood,

Waking at sun’s lance whence the seed was strewed.

Shrouding the dead one, winter turns her face,

Welcoming growth within earth’s dark embrace. *

When I think of the wildflowers producing a bounty of seeds in the summer that have evolved to withstand a cold winter I am reminded of how the main business of every species seems to be succession – creating another viable generation. This urge to sustain life is really quite remarkable. “Keep life going” seems to be the main if not the sole purpose of all life forms on our planet. Can we be satisfied with saying that the purpose or meaning of life is to “keep life going”? History and literature indicates that we want life to mean more than that, especially our own individual lives. But is there justification for a “higher” meaning or purpose when we observe the natural world? And is “keep life going” really such a lowly pursuit?

I want to give some thought to the idea of treating “keep life going” as an ethic. How would “keep life going” as an ethic change my perspective and behavior? For starters it would seem to dethrone us humans from the lofty perch above the animal kingdom we have assumed and place us squarely back into the natural world. Some may object that this reduces humans to living like animals, that “keep life going” is too primitive to serve as an ethic. But have we seriously considered “keep life going” as an ethic and the meaning it would give to our lives? With the threats we have imposed on our ecosystem the question, “How do we keep life going?” may become the only question we believe that matters. Is “keep life going” the equivalent of Natural Law? I want to explore more fully the implications of that in my life.

* from "Celtic Wisdom Sticks, An Ogam Oracle" by Caitlin Matthews.

Jan 1, 2008 Uir Heather

Tue, 01 Jan 2008 22:16:38 GMT

"Deep underground there sleeps the summer's brood,

Waking at sun's lance whence the seed is strewed.

Shrouding the dead one, winter turns her face,

Welcoming growth within earth's dark embrace."

When I am outside in the yard or walking through the woods at this time of year there is a noticeable change in the attitude and ativity of nature. "Dormant" is probably the best description. Plant life, especially, is dormant. There is activity - growth buds forming and underground, seeds and roots are undergoing some transformations and preparations for spring. But the pace of activity has slowed tremendously. Same for the animal kingdom. Many species are hibernating in the ground - insects, reptiles and some mammals among others. And the animals that remain active (birds, deer, rabbits, coyotes, ect.) have greatly slowed their paces to conserve energy. Winter is a time for rest - a slower pace.

I think it would be wise for me to match my pace to the rest of nature. Come spring, summer and fall there will be mowing, weeding, planting, more weeding, harvesting, storing, canning, freezing, repairing and more weeding to do. It's a good time now that the holiday traveling, feastings and parties are over to join nature and slow the pace, enjoy the slower pace, to realize the slower pace is part of nature's cycle and will be good for me. There is no need for guilt. It is a way to live in harmony with the land,sea and sky.

Sun Dec 30, 2007 NGetal Fern

Sun, 30 Dec 2007 12:43:16 GMT

"Leech out the pain and quell the heavy sigh,

Charms shall bespell the living not to die.

Enfolding is the cloak that wraps you round,

Skill, craft and cunning shall keep you from the mound."

I see myself standing warm in the winter woods wrapped snugly in a coat of many colors. No, I am not Joseph of the Bibe but I have been given a beautiful coat that keeps me warm and makes me feel secure, protected and loved. The coat has been fashioned together by the skill of EMT's, doctors, surgeons and nurses, by the thoughts and prayers of friends, by the support and attention from family, by the help of the gods and most of all by the love of my wife. Wearing this coat I feel confident to learn the boundaries of what I can perform and then use that knowledge to stay within my limits. Even during the heat of summer I will keep this coat nearby to remind me of my gratefulness to all who keep me alive. And when my time does come to cross the ocean and go to the Land of Eternal Summer I will sling the coat over my shoulder and carry it with me to my new home.

Mon Dec 24, 2007 Ailm Pine

Mon, 24 Dec 2007 19:57:08 GMT

"What birth-cry calls out first when we take life?

Each echo is the answer to its strife.

The tallest guardian of the windy plain,

Calls loudly to the easing of all pain."

I see the young white pine with its long, soft needles standing firm on the east slope. In Winter the deer like to snack on the tips of the branches where the growth buds appear. I suppose its a real treat for the deer. It's not unusual to hike past the young pine and see the tips of every branch snapped off by the teeth of deer. The pine's response to this violence is to exude a healing sap sealing the wound to protect it from further damage from bugs, cold and disease. The pine will start new offshoot growth which will grow next Spring and Summer. It will be a tall, beautiful pine one day and we will remember the wounds and scars it endured early on. That memory will form part of its beauty for us.

Sun Dec 9, 2007 Onn Gorse

Sun, 09 Dec 2007 15:08:23 GMT

"Smooth-worn and round, by wind and by sea,

In darkness, the wonder of making grows free.

No joints shown, but joining all hosts to the song,

As wisdom's beguiling makes short cuts of long."

I am standing on a smooth, round rock looking out across the ocean. A stronge breeze blows in my face and tosses my hair. The waves rumble in one after another. I see people swimming in the ocean with surfboards. A young man watches over his shoulder where waves are forming behind him. He mounts the surfboard on his knees, paddles his hands in the water, then stands on his board crouching, balancing as a wave rises, surrounds and consumes him. He tumbles and falls, the board flies into the air and then crashes near the boy. A few seconds later the boy emerges from the froth and signals he is OK.

A young woman tries her hand next. She chooses a smaller wave. She jumps onto her board, braces for the lift and push of the wave but disappointedly sinks as the tiny wave fizzles into flat water.

Back behind her another surfer has caught a new wave and is riding it like the wind. He veers into the pipe, the wave curls over him as he zips sideways along the angle of the wave. He hangs on to the end of the wave and raises his hands triumphantly into the air. He found his wave and rode it.

Sunday Nov 25, 2007 Coll Hazel

Sun, 25 Nov 2007 13:35:14 GMT

"Wisdom resides within the secret heart;

Who seeks it fervently will have his part.

Beasts of good sense seek out the sweetest meat,

Men of learning follow craft with even feet."

It seems that wisdom accrues to us over time like interest to a savings account. If we are paying attention at all we should gain some wisdom through the years. If the pursuit of wisdom is one of our main purposes then perhaps the rate of accrual is increased. But, in contrast to the instant gratification, gotta-have-it-now culture of our day, wisdom is attained through that patient, persistent life-long search for it.

The deer in our woods achieve their size and bulk and health through the daily eating of hundreds of tiny acorns and beech nuts. There are no ten pound acorns out there for them to gorge upon. And so will go my search for wisdom. I will not find a "holy grail" of wisdom, a treasure chest full of wisdom coins. My search should be the patient, persistent gathering of nuggets of wisdom, everyday. Maybe one day wisdom will shine on me like the beautiful coats of hair on our deer. Rg

Sunday, Nov 18, 2007 Muin Vine

Sun, 18 Nov 2007 11:40:07 GMT

"Path of utterance cleaving the quietened throng,

Each listens to the beauty of your song.

Wide your embrace, affectionately you cling,

While ever on the birds of summer sing."

Another summer has passed and the birds are mostly quiet now. A Winter Wren graces us with its beautiful song now and then. In my mind with a little effort my memory replays the songs of the birds of summer - the noble territorial calls of the Cardinal, the rising pitch call of the Red-Winged Blackbird "O-ka-lee", the whisperings of the Bluebirds, the gurglings of the cowbirds, the happy chatter of the goldfinches.

Something in the birdsong compels me to listen more intently; to follow the pedigree of birdsong to the First Song, the First Note. Doesn't it seem that all music is derivative from and variations on a First Song, a First Note? And every song in some way or another points us back to the First Song? I think the First Song is still playing and all of our music is inspired by and seeks to harmonize with that First Song.

Song has an undeniable power to unify and heal all that listen. I want to listen more intently, to listen for the First Note in every song and let that note work its power on me. Rg

Sunday, Nov 11, 2007 NGetal Fern

Sun, 11 Nov 2007 12:22:19 GMT

"Leech out the pain and quell the heavy sigh,

Charms shall bespell the living not to die.

Enfolding is the cloak that wraps you round,

Skill, craft and cunning shall keep you from the mound."

Since I was a young child I have believed that there is magic in the world. I have always believed that I am leading a charmed life. I have always felt that the circumstances of my life have been most fortunate and that Someone was smiling down upon me. I have always suspected the presence of leprechauns near me (including mischievous leprechauns who like to brew up some trouble for me to watch me twist and squirm my way out of a scrape). In short, I have always felt that luck was on my side.

I attribute my surviving a recent heart attack and cardiac arrest to good fortune and the great skills, craft and cunning of the EMT's, doctors, surgeon and nurses. I know I am a very lucky man as many have told me. I am thankful for the "lucky coat" I have been given to wear. I am grateful for the good charms, the good will, the good thoughts many have sent my way.

To me, life is magical. I want to embrace the magic of life and let life charm me every day. Rg

Sunday Nov 4, 2007 Onn Gorse

Sun, 04 Nov 2007 11:11:23 GMT

"Smooth-worn and round, by wind and by sea,

In darkness, the wonder of making grows free.

No joint shown, but joining all hosts to the song,

As wisdom's beguiling makes short cuts of long."

Here on Crann Mor Feirm we have a secluded spot we call, "The Falls". It's located at the bottom of a ravine where the runoof from rain has exposed rock facings creating adjoining walls with a waterfall covering the joint. One can deduce that it has taken thousands of years for the water to wear away the rock. And it has done its work largely in darkness. The fall is in a secluded spot, hidden by foliage most of the year. We had lived on the farm several weeks before I discovered the existence of the falls on one of my forays into the woods.

I see a particle of sand coming down the falls, falling into the little creek that flows into Apple Fork Creek at the bottom of Crann Mor Feirm. Apple Fork Creek carries the sand to the Little Sandy river which flows into the Big Sandy river which joins the Ohio River near Huntington, WV. The Ohio River floats the sand to the Mississippi which takes it on down to the Gulf of Mexico where the sand is churned by the tide into quartz crystals which wash onto the shore of Pensacola Beach and create the beautiful, naturally white beaches of that area. I am reminded that riding in the current of nature, going with its flow will fulfill my destiny. Nature's creations are wise and beautiful. I want to let her do her work on me. Rg

Sat Oct 27, 2007 Ruis Elder

Sat, 27 Oct 2007 10:14:27 GMT

"Queen of two gifts, dispensing bounties bright,

Unfolding store of day and claim of night,

Keep strong in honour the undying name,

Hiding from sight the secret of all shame."

The Queen has been dispensing beautiful gifts here, lately, during the day and the night. We have been treated in the daytime with the warm, and sometimes bold, colors of autumn leaves. At night, the full Hunter's Moon has been rising at sunset and shining brightly through the night. We can see the far hills in its illumination.. Venus rises in the early dawn. She is shining at her most brilliant self right now.

The autumn leaves, the full moon and Venus are the most obvious gifts of the day and night. They remind us of the bounty of gifts we sometimes overlook. And if these wonderful gifts from the Queen distract us, shift our focus away from "the secret of all shame", all the better, I say. Rg

Thu Oct 25, 2007 Huath Hawthorn

Thu, 25 Oct 2007 13:20:04 GMT

"Through terror, ancient heroes came again,

Unapprehending of the danger or the pain.

By white blossom, smiling as she stood,

The maiden welcomed them to their soul's good."

I see the ancient heroes come charging across the Irish lanscape on their powerful horses. They merge and as they pass a maiden standing under a blooming hawthorn tree they nod a silent acknowledgement, whip their horses and charge fiercely and fearlessly on.

I believe that ancient heroes, including our ancestors can and do come to our aid. Their spirits bring strength, wisdom and courage. I am thankful for this reminder of their presence and for the help they have given us. Rg

Wed Oct 24, 2007 STRaif Blackthorn

Thu, 25 Oct 2007 00:10:48 GMT

"Reddest of reds, like blood from out the heart,

It lies quiescent in the vat at start,

But rouses to an angry, bubbling hiss,

Searing the lip with secret's knowing kiss."

We do not get by with anything in nature. Natural law is unforgiving. Is this why we have retreated to urban areas where we can confine and control nature as best we can? Are we hoping we can hide the secret that we are a part of nature and thus avoid her consequences. She will have none of that. She will boil over and kiss us full on the lips.

Even though we are making every effort to live in harmony with nature, my secret was that I was not treating my own body as a part of nature. I was ignoring the consequences that negative behavior would have on my body. I was not listening to my body or properly caring for it. The result was a searing heart attack a few weeks ago that nearly killed me. Nature knows our secrets and will lay them bare. I now pay great attention to my body and I have a much greater appreciation for its natural element. My secret was that I thought I was immune to natural law. That secret, that delusion is vanquished. Rg

Tue Oct 23, 2007 Coll Hazel

Tue, 23 Oct 2007 11:45:01 GMT

"Wisdom resides within the secret heart,

Who seeks it fervently will have his part.

Beasts of good sense seek out the sweetest meat,

Men of learning follow craft with even feet."

I see bright red blackberries displaying themselves on the vines, advertizing that in a short time they will be ripe and ready for all creatures to eat. I see bluebirds, crows, wild turkeys and deer stopping by to check on their progress. Blackberries that are consumed have a better chance of their seeds germinating and creating new plants.

Some opportunities advertize themselves in advance of the time they are ready to be picked. I need to be a "beast of good sense" and watch for the signs in nature and life of ripe opportunities to come.

Mon Oct 22, 2007 Beith Birch

Mon, 22 Oct 2007 23:06:48 GMT

"First of all hands to clutch the heavenly bole,

The grey-clad youngling seeks high learning's goal.

A cloak of feathers with a bell-hung rod,

He seeks to merit where his elders trod."

I see a pathway cleared before me, well-trod, clearly defined. It is a path opened by my elders and my ancestors before them. The path's name is Personal Integrity. I am so fortunate to have parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts, great uncles and great aunts, great grandparents and on back through the lineage who have been good, honest, show-up-for-work, pay-your-bills, take care of yourself, help those in need, above all retain your personal integrity knd of people. To merit the honor to follow in their path is a challenge. The worthiest challenge, I believe. To be recognized as one who has followed their path would be the highest of honors. Rg

Sun Oct 21, 2007 Ailm Pine

Sun, 21 Oct 2007 12:45:42 GMT

"What birth-cry calls out first when we take life?

Each echo is the answer to its strife.

The tallest guardian of a windy plain,

Calls loudly to the healing of all pain."

I see a new-born baby lying comfortably in a bed of soft needles underneath a pine tree. The wind whispers a sweet lullaby through the branches of the pine.

I see a young boy climbing in the pine tree, resting in the bough of its branches. The wind whispers of places far away through the brances of the pine.

I see an anxious man nervously plucking needles out of a branch of the pine tree. The wind whispers a calming, relaxing tune through the branches of the pine.

I see a grave dug underneath the pine tree and family and friends gathered round. The wind whispers a healing song through the branches of the pine.

I see a new-born baby lying next to the grave underneath the pine tree. The wind whispers a sweet lullaby through the branches of the pine.

Sat Oct 20, 2007 Duir Oak

Sun, 21 Oct 2007 11:10:25 GMT

"Keeper of knowledge, master of the wood,

Uphold the tribute for the tribe's great good.

Standing at memory's door with darkened eyes,

Bringing forth fragrant peace that never dies."

I see a venerable master of the wood inviting me to walk into the forest and smell again the musty fragrances of Autumn. The rich, musty odors, the breeze rattling the leaves on the trees, the warm colors bring a peace to the soul that is eternal. Memory's door is opened to the same feelings of peace and contentment I experienced in the woods since I was a child. What is the source of this comfort? Does the comfort come from the thought that even in death and decomposition there is richness which will be the source of new life? Do I feel an affinity with the decaying leaf knowing that one day I too will become part of the landscape - decomposing into the fertile soil like the fallen leaves? Yes, there is peace and comfort remembering that I am a part of the Wheel of Time, the Cycle of Nature, the Rhythm of Life. And while the leaves take their places on the forest floor I will continue in my place - living life to the full in harmony with the land, sea and sky, seeking to walk with wisdom. Rg

Fri Oct 19, 2007 Nin Ash

Fri, 19 Oct 2007 13:26:18 GMT

"No prize in beauty higher than the sky,

Wider than spear can shoot or seer can scry;

The fork that wefts the web can straighter grow

Than any weaving woven here below."

From the time I was born until I was about seven years of age my Great Aunt Elsie babysat me through the day while my mother worked. Aunt Elsie was part Cherokee. Her dark complexion and facial features displayed her Cherokee heritage. Aunt Elsie made rugs on a loom - the big old looms that are now only seen in historic villages. As I grew older she would sit me by her side on the bench in front of the loom and I would watch her "magically" weave a rug before my eyes. I would sit there for hours, mystified and mesmerized by the hundreds of threads and colors and the patterns forming in the rug. Aunt Elsie taught me how to count by having me keep track of the number of times she passed the shuttle through the loom. I also learned the intricacies of the loom - the fine adjustments necessary to keep everything in line, how every board on the loom had to be straight with no warping, how a weak thread could break and cause a major disruption to the process, the patience necessary to sit for hours weaving a tapestry of colors into a rug of which Aunt Elsie could be proud.

I think of how we seek to weave the tapestry of our lives. The quality of the thread we choose, the straightness and balance of the loom, the patience of the weaver will all make a difference. Some folks are very good at weaving colorful, interesting patterns into their lives. I admire that. But, it seems there is another weaving taking place. A weaving on a higher, infinite, incomprehensible plane. I am reminded of this when the threads I intended to use are replaced by other colors and new patterns find their way into the tapestry I was so carefully creating. What do we do when suddenly the only colors available to us are the dark colors of trajedy, disaster, illness or grief? We keep weaving. We work them in as best we can. We may even embrace them and make as beautiful pattern as we can looking forward to the day when the bright colors return. Our tapestries may have a dimension that we had not foreseen, but it will be none the less beautiful for it. Rg

Thu Oct 18, 2007 Gort Ivy

Thu, 18 Oct 2007 11:51:33 GMT

Within the sweet enclosure take your rest,

Unless you come to grapple with the best.

Grateful and giving, stedfast to the end,

To many a poor mouth shall its riches lend."

I see the land here at Crann Mor being grateful for the things we have done to honour it, especially by cleaning it. The land has been generous in return. Even though we have experienced the worst drought in one hundred years in this area, we harvested 15 quarts of blackberries this summer. We left many more blackberries for the birds, turkeys, deer and other animals. We have noticed that there are many acorns on the ground, hickory nuts falling and beech nuts on the branches of the Beech trees. Our pond, though low, still has plenty of water to keep the fish, other anmals and vegetation alive.

I have so much for which to be grateful. I have never experienced a "drought" in terms of blessings to me personally. Yet, I don't think my gratitude or my giving begin to match that of the land, even during its drought. I need to grow in my gratitude and my generosity. Rg

Wed ct 17, 2007 Ruis Elder

Wed, 17 Oct 2007 12:24:38 GMT

"Queen of two gifts, dispensing bounties bright,

Unfolding store of day and claim of night,

Keep strong in honour the undying name,

Hiding from sight the secret of all shame."

I see a majestic queen adorned in her full, regal robe. She is dispensing the gifts of day and night to all of her subjects. She carries herself with dignity and honour. But I have the impression she can explode into a burst of rage if provoked - and her damage could extend far. Mother Earth seems to posses these qualities and I respect her power to dispense as she wills and I accept the outcome. Rg

Mon Oct 15, 2007 Luis Rowan

Mon, 15 Oct 2007 12:07:08 GMT

"The saving herb draws healing through its root,

Dispensing many gifts through every shoot.

Physic of cattle, lustre of the eye,

Answer need's prayer with mercy as we cry."

I see Coltsfoot, first bloom of early Spring, sprouting along the driveway. I think of its healing properties for coughing. I see that nearly every plant that grows wild at Crann Mor has healing properties or is edible. The land literally bursts forth with nutrition and healing. And then I think of the ocean and how it teems with all kinds of life. It may be a primitive thought, all too obvious, but it is good for me to be reminded that the earth sustains our lives. Rg

Sun Oct 14, 2007 Coll Hazel

Sun, 14 Oct 2007 12:56:19 GMT

"Wisdom resides within the secret heart;

Who seeks it fervently will have his part.

Beasts of good sense seek out the sweetest meat,

Men of learning follow craft with even feet."

I seen an older, worn face whose eyes have the glint of wisdom. The person is a quiet sort, but knows much that is tucked away in his mind and heart. Probably the best way for me to learn wisdom is to spend time with those who are wise - ask them questions, draw out their heart. Our wisest folk are most often our oldest folk. I can grow greatly in my understanding of the hills by spending time with some of the older folks of this area. It would be wise for me to seek out some opportunities where I can be around them more. Rg

Thu Oct 11, 2007 Beith Birch

Thu, 11 Oct 2007 14:02:45 GMT

"First of all hands to clutch the heavenly bole,

The grey-clad youngling seeks high learning's goal.

A cloak of feathers with a bell-hung rod,

He seeks to merit where his elders trod."

I see a young student who is very thirsty for knowledge and wisdom, even ambitious in his desire to learn the most, the fastest. I am reminded that it is the thirst for knowledge and wisdom that keeps our minds and spirits young. I have been blessed with a curious nature and have always wanted to learn everything about everything. I have been attempting to filter down my "fields of study" in the past few years to a more manageable list. Because of the inter-connectedness of all things the study of anything opens doors of knowledge to everything. I want to keep this curious streak throughout the rest of my life. I know it will keep me a youngling. Rg

Wed Oct 10, 2007 Saille Willow

Wed, 10 Oct 2007 20:28:27 GMT

"The swarming bees make bright the summer day

With drowsy songs, throwing their cares away.

Kindle a candle when honey flowers appear:

Let blessings quell the stubbornness of fear."

Even in the midst of Autumn I have been seeing honeybees on the remaining clover and bumblebees on the dahlias. I easily recall the drowsy songs of the bees in the yard this summer. In a year when many beehives throughout the world have mysteriously collapsed we feel fortunate and grateful to have thriving colonies of bees here at Crann Mor. Bees and honey have long been a symbol of a fruitful land. I recall the phrase, "the land of milk and honey" used to describe paradise-like lands of promise.

On this particular day I have some anxiety about how quickly I can get a job transfer much closer to home sparing me five hours of driving back and forth to work, everyday. I am also concerned about replacing our car which burned a few weeks ago. Then there are the medical bills from the heart attack which are beginning to roll in. On this particular day I needed to be reminded of the plentiful blessings I have symbolized by the bees. I am alive - walking, talking and able to do many things; I have a wonderful wife who loves me and whose top concern is my welfare; I have a good job with excellent health benefits; we received a good settlement from the insurance company on our burned car; my employer has given me plenty of time to recover from the heart attack; my family and friends have been very supportive and encouraging and I of course can list many more blessings... Today, I am going to let the drowsy song of the bees drown out the distracting noise of anxiety. Rg

Tue Oct 9, 2007 Luis Rowan

Tue, 09 Oct 2007 12:01:27 GMT

"The saving herb draws healing through its root,

Dispensing many gifts through every shoot.

Physic of cattle, lustre of the eye,

Answer need's prayer with mercy as we cry."

I see my great-great grandmother, Emma Rilla Smith, dressed in black (as my mother said she always was) gathering wild herbs from the forest and streambanks to make her healing potions. She is reputed to have had the gift of healing, could stop bleeding from a distance and as my mother recounts was believed to be a witch. Emma Rilla obviously understood the healing powers provided by the land. It is perhaps a sign of how disconnected we have become from the land that so much of this knowledge has been lost. The land is our source of healing. Even today, most if not all of our medicines are made from or are ultimately derived from plants and fruits. I thank the land for providing our healing. Rg

Mon Oct 8, 2007 Duir Oak

Mon, 08 Oct 2007 11:19:08 GMT

"Keeper of knowledge, master of the wood,

Uphold the tribute for the tribe's great good.

Standing at memory's door with darkened eyes,

Bringing forth fragrant peace that never dies."

I think it is necessary for me to "stand at memory's door with darkened eyes" in order to smell the sweet fragrance of peace. Too often I allow wounds from the past to live on in the present disrupting my peace. I pick at those wounds like healing scabs and keep the sore fresh. These things should be resolved or forgotten - relegated to a black hole where they cannot be constantly retrieved to have a defining influence on who I am. Not allowing these hurtful memories to retain power over me brings forth a fragrant peace - a peace that comes from security with who I am, a peace that comes from staying in control of my identity. Rg

Sun Oct 7 Nin Ash

Sun, 07 Oct 2007 11:02:30 GMT

"No prize in beauty higher than the sky,

Wider than spear can shoot or seer can scry;

The fork that wefts the web can straighter grow,

Than any weaving woven here below."

I was fortunte to awake at 5 a.m. and step outside to see Venus at her greatest magnitude rising over the east ridge very near a beautiful waning crescent moon. They dominated a morning sky filled with billions of stars. Crann Mor is far away from any city lights and the night sky literally glows on a clear night from the brilliance of the Milky Way to every visible constellation and galaxy filling in every dark spot. But the Moon and Venus together on the horizon - that is a sight!

It is hard to imagine a prize in beauty higher than the sky. The night sky has fired the imagination since we first looked up. Its awesomeness humbles us, still. Few things can humble and inspire me, can fill me with childlike wonder like the night sky. A good dose of the night sky, taken frequently, is healing for my soul. Rg

Sat Oct 6, 2007

Sat, 06 Oct 2007 12:55:09 GMT

"Keeper of knowledge, master of the wood,

Uphold the tribute for the tribe's great good.

Standing at memory's door with darkened eyes,

Bringing forth fragrant peace that never dies."

I see a wise, old druid with the keys of wisdom leading the tribe, calling each member of the tribe to fulfill his responsibilities for the greater good of the tribe. It has always seemed to me that American culture has elevated the individual above the community. I have been influemced by this and have allowed myself to succumb to individualistic thinkng rather than thinking of the good of the community, or the tribe. To what tribe do I belong? Who is my tribe and what contributions should I be making to uphold the tribe? I need to make these identifications and do my part for the tribe's great good and fragrant peace.

Thu Oct 4, 2007 Muin Vine

Thu, 04 Oct 2007 12:19:53 GMT

"Path of utterance cleaving the quietened throng,

Each listens to the beauty of your song.

Wide your embrace, affectionately you cling,

While ever on the birds of summer sing."

The throngs have quietened at this time of year. Only a few summer birds continue to sing. Insects are quieter, frogs are nearly silent. Is the "path of utterance" easier to hear at this time of year? I need to listen, really listen to the heartbeat of nature that is pulsing in the background of our lives.

Wed Oct 3, 2007 Gort Ivy

Wed, 03 Oct 2007 13:34:03 GMT

"Within the sweet enclosure take your rest,

Unless you come to grapple with the best.

Grateful and giving, stedfast to the end,

To many a poor mouth shall its riches lend."

This is the third day of eleven that "Gort" has been my ogham symbol. Today, the message that predominates is "take your rest". The visit to the doctor Monday was encouraging since my heart has achieved 45% recovery. However, the doctor is still restricitng my activities to walking and light work around the farm. I do find that I don't seem to have the energy that I did before the heart attack. The surgeon said there was a lot of damage to my heart and that 50-55% recovery may be the best we can expect. It is very difficult for me to accept the restrictions to activity and the amount of damage done to my heart. But, I think beyond walking the trails and heart building therapy it is time for me to accept a season of rest here at Crann Mor. A time to relax and enjoy the healing the land can give and the riches it has to offer. Perhaps I am going to be the "poor mouth" for awhile. I will need encouragement and guidance if semi-convalescence is to be my lot for a season.

Tue Oct 2, 2007 Beith Birch

Tue, 02 Oct 2007 11:15:33 GMT

"First of all hands to clutch the heavenly bole,

The grey-clad youngling seeks high learning's goal.

A cloak of feathers with a bell-hung rod,

He seeks to merit where his elders trod."

I see someone who is eager to take on the mantle of responsibility and lead the next generation on the path of wisdom. I am thankful for those who are willing to step up and lead. They deserve our encouragement and support. I am also reminded that with the gaining of any measure of wisdom comes a measure of responsibility to share the wisdom.

Mon Oct 1, 2007 Tinne Holly

Mon, 01 Oct 2007 12:41:55 GMT

"Within the burning glead the dark fire glows,

A whirling brand that threeways, sunwise goes.

Echoed enchantments hammer out the song:

Who spins with this turning shall live well and strong."

I saw a very sacred space where no people or animals can approach because of the fire. The brand of fire burns and revolves within a protecting glead of fire like a moat. Is this a sacred mystery within Nature or within me? Enchantments sing out - a very primitive image is conjured within me. Many of our inhibitions, sophistications seem to be efforts to mask the primitive fire burning within us. Let the fire burn - spin and dance to the enchantments - live well and strong.

Sun Sep 30, 2007 Coll Hazel

Mon, 01 Oct 2007 12:34:29 GMT

"Wisdom resides within the secret heart,

Who seeks it fervently will have his part.

Beasts of good sense seek out the sweetest meat,

Men of learning follow craft with even feet."

I see a picture of Wisdom hidden like a secret treasure and some people on a fervent hunt to find it. Like the beasts' persistence in their search for the best food, like people who are dedicated to their craft - persistent, dedicated seekers of Wisdom will find it. Morsels of Wisdom can be found all around us if we keep looking.

Sat Sep 29, 2007 Uir Heather

Mon, 01 Oct 2007 12:29:52 GMT

"Deep underground there sleeps the summer's brood,

Waking at sun's lance whence the seed is strewed.

Shrouding the dead one, Winter turns her face,

Welcoming growth within earth's dark embrace."

I see myself as "the dead one" being replanted in the ground to develop this Winter and begin "anew" this Spring. This winter season upcoming is a natural time for reflection, lookin within. This may be particularly appropriate for me this year having been given in one respect "a new life." Maybe I am a seed that has been replanted.

Another thought has come to me which is critical - I have not properly thanked the nature spirits, ancestors and gods and goddesses for their help in sparing my life. I want to think of an appropriate way to do this here at Crann Mor.

Fri Sep 28, 2007 Gort Ivy

Mon, 01 Oct 2007 12:22:50 GMT

"Within the sweet enclosure take your rest,

Unless you come to grapple with the best.

Grateful and giving, stedfast to the end,

To many a poor mouth shall its riches lend."

Gort was my daily symbol as recently as Tuesday. I wonder if it recurs today as a reinforcement of its message? Yesterday, after returning from Morehead, our car caught fire next to the barn. We had to call the Fire Dept to extinguosh it before it burned the barn and possibly the house. The got it ut out in time but the car engine is completely burned. I overheard one of the fireman tell our neighbor that he thought this place was jinxed. Previously, a house burned down on this spot - and now my heart attack and the car fire...

I don't agree that Crann Mor is jinxed and the message gives me confidence that Crann Mor will be a productive farm that will help provide for the needs of the poor, someday. I feel that strongly. I accept that it will require "grappling with the best". I am not sure who or what "the best" are. I have thought of it as the land itself. Perhaps there are nature spirits here that also must be won over. We will grapple with the best as they present themselves to us. We will remain stedfast to the end. We believe in Crann Mor.