Lammas-Tide (No.7)
It is Lammas-Tide.
Late Summer.
While September through November is my "most wonderful tiiiiime...of the yearrrrr," each season has its sweet spot for me, and August is the sweet spot of Summer. The bright white molten blazing sun of June and July has changed angle just enough to become the yellow, corn-colored, butter-braised, Sun of August.
It is my first year planting food gardens, and my gardens are out of control! I cannot harvest, process, and store the bounty fast enough. I don’t even know what to do with some of the vegetables because the learning curve has been steep! So, there’s lot of googling for answers. I'm so excited that there is food growing in my yard! My squash is taller than my waist and stretches the length of two picnic tables! There’s corn, peas, peppers, onions, garlic, cabbage (that barely survived the family of rabbits that live on my land), and ever-growing pumpkins. There’s also mugwort, sage, rosemary, basil, yarrow, lavender, and sunflowers. There is not enough food to live on for a year, which was my goal, being my first endeavor at off-grid living. But, I am still ecstatic about the gardens. Not bad at all for my first year gardening.
It has taken a lot of work to produce this little bit of food. I’ve had a lot of time to reflect upon the time, energy, and hard labor it takes to grow food. To tend gardens. What it means to tend. The attention and care. On the one hand, how amazing it is when the fruits of my labor, quite literally, are so material! And, on the other hand, how harsh and devastating it can be when my time and energy doesn't work out and no fruit grows. Everything held in balance. The wonder at how regenerative and abundant the earth is. I started every plant in my gardens intentionally from seed. But, I also have plants in my garden that are only there because I accidentally dropped seeds. Or the wind blew seed across the yard.
There are so many profound lessons to be experienced in the gardens of my homestead, working in rain or shine, hands in the soil, in intimate relationship with the Earth and seasons. It is good work. It is holy work.
I hope whatever you planted this year, whether on purpose, or by chance wind-blown seed, is coming into fruition marvelously.
May whatever grows in your gardens—whether they be physical, metaphorical, or poetic—be beautiful, hearty, nourishing, and good.
Traffic - John Barleycorn
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=icyPFsIcAV0
There were three men came out of the West
Their fortunes for to try
And these three men made a solemn vow
John Barleycorn must die
They've ploughed, they've sown, they've harrowed him in
Threw clods upon his head
And these three men made a solemn vow
John Barleycorn was dead
They've let him lie for a very long time
Till the rains from heaven did fall
And little Sir John sprung up his head
And so amazed them all
They've let him stand till midsummer's day
Till he looked both pale and wan
And little Sir John's grown a long, long beard
And so become a man
They've hired men with the scythes so sharp
To cut him off at the knee
They've rolled him and tied him by the way
Serving him most barbarously
They've hired men with the sharp pitchforks
Who pricked him to the heart
And the loader he has served him worse than that
For he's bound him to the cart
They've wheeled him around and around the field
Till they came unto a barn
And there they made a solemn oath
On poor John Barleycorn
They've hired men with the crab-tree sticks
To cut him skin from bone
And the miller he has served him worse than that
For he's ground him between two stones
And little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl
And he's brandy in the glass
And little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl
Proved the strongest man at last
The huntsman, he can't hunt the fox
Nor so loudly to blow his horn
And the tinker he can't mend kettle nor pot
Without a little Barleycorn