You Call it Christmas, We Call it Yule

Wow, there are so many people writing articles for Witchvox these days, the ones I have written over the years for holidays are barely visible anymore (though if you go to the holiday pages, they are among the most-viewed pages over the years).

It's nice to see so many people eager to contribute. We started out with only a handful of writers back in the late 1990s (Wren, Fritz, myself, Mike Nichols, Christina, and gradually folks like Dio and Waterhawk and others joined in). Now there are hundreds if not thousands of people posting new stuff, with lots of new articles every week.

I do sometimes think a lot of the articles are retreads of stuff that has already been written about, and once in a while I read something that makes me scratch my head, like this quote which seems to be to somewhat dubious scholarship: "On All Hallows' Eve, as it was called back then, the Druids would go from door to door holding an empty basket asking for fruit and whatever treats the residents would give them. Later in the evening, everyone would gather together in a festival, dancing, singing, playing, and enjoying the foods they were given." Um...did you have a historical citation for that?

I recall a whacko fundie Christian appearing on Bill Maher's "Politically Incorrect" years ago saying pretty much the same thing about Hallowe'en, except her version was that "the Druids would go door to door, looking for a human sacrfiice." At least her crazy version has some basis in reality, even it is only a fantastical pre-Raphaelite painting by William Holman Hunt entitled "A Converted British Family Sheltering a Christian Priest from the Persecution of the Druids". See those bloodthirsty Druids? Outside the door...why, it's almost as if they are going door to door!

Anyway, I digress. In the spirit of Yuletide nostalgia and plain old self-aggrandizement, here is my own Witchvox Yule article written all those years ago...Read and enjoy!

A truly autumnal day...

Is there any more beautiful season? More fragrant, more evocative, more inspirational? No. No I say! Bring it on. Summer is a flibbertygibbet, a ditzy girl in a gaudy sundress, a suburban barbecue with sickly-sweet chicken and domestic beer...autumn is a worldly troubador, comfy tweed and vintage leather, a haunch of venison roasted over a woodfire and served with a crisp cider....

TO AUTUMN.

1.
SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

2.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

3.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

John Keats (1795-1821)


Up early today and it is unseasonably cold, but bright and brisk is my favorite kind of day. I will definitely venture out somewhere. I had hoped to attend the Regional Food festival at Indian Ladders but my sweetie is working so I can't get out there. Oh well.

Last night was also very chilly! It got down to the upper 30s, much more characteristic of October for this reagion than mid-September. I had houseguests (friend Rosanna and her compatriates attending a conference on Permaculture and similar topics) who had originally planned to stay at a nearby campsite. But they welcomed the warmth and dryness of our little fixer-upper! It was fun to have guests, it would have been nice to have a fire in the fireplace (or outside in our yet-to-be-assembled firedish) but we're still in some disarray from all the indoor and outdoor work. Hoping next time we have guests at least the living and dining rooms will be painted.

Yesterday it rained quite a bit (we need it! a few days' worth have reverse the summer drought, maybe) but when it cleared in late afternoon we stopped by Larkfest and walked among the crowds. It seemed like almost everyone had a beer in their hand! But it was fun to see people out and about, happy the street fair had been salvaged after a rainy start to the day. Washington Park was nice, too and I plan to walk there today.

The equinox approaches...I just wrote an article for Witchvox on Mabon. It was a bit rushed and I now wish I had tied in some other information, but I liked the poem quotes I found. There is one article left in the series to be written (for Lammas) so I look forward to working on that for next summer.

I am excited about the approach of fall. This never fails me, every year, for as long as I can remember.