Showing posts with label michaelmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label michaelmas. Show all posts

Sunday, September 30, 2012

The Morning Swift Show

Autumn Equinox

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Some people think the most wonderful time of the year is Christmas but I know it is September. Gorgeous weather, cooler nights, the colors of autumn starting to show. I just love it.

The Morning Swift Show
I have a long standing tradition of waking up for the sunrise on the equinox and a separate tradition of viewing the Vaux's swifts at Chapman school in September but this year I finally combined them. For years, I've been wondering if the birds put on a show in the morning when they leave the roost so this year I combined my traditions and went to see the Morning Swift Show. September 20th was a windy morning and cool, but the sky was clear and it was evident that it was going to be a warm day. I arrived at the school about 10 minutes before the official sunrise time and there were three other intrepid souls waiting for the bird, a hipster couple wrapped in a mexican blanket and an older gentleman with a notebook and binoculars. Just after the published sunrise time the birds started to come out of the chimney, not in the swirling mass they go in with, but like a fountain dripping over the side. The birds would leap out and fall for a couple feet before flapping their wings and flying off into the new day. The Peregrine falcons, a regular visitor to the evening Swift Show, was there with a mate or a friend. Both were very successful in nabbing breakfast. As the sun rose above the clouds the rush of birds ended and I walked across the park to the dog park. Now I know what happens to the swifts in the morning, and it was fun to have the spectacle almost all to myself. 

Steiner identified the archetypical festival of this season as Michaelmas, the celebration of the God's warrior overcoming a dragon or serpent. It is the time when we face our own fears and earn a spark from Michael's iron sword to light our lanterns through the winter. But first, we get to bask in the glory that is autumn. My favorite time of year.

What did you do to celebrate the equinox? What dragons are you facing? When was the last time you got up for the sunrise? How is autumn progressing where you are? Happy equinox!

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Autumn Equinox 2011: Michaelmas Season and Michaelmas Photos

Autumn Equinox 2010: Here Be Dragons and A Dragon Tale for Michaelmas 
 
Autumn Equinox 2009: The Autumnal Equinox and The Earth is Breathing its Soul Back In



Friday, September 30, 2011

Michaelmas Photos

Autumn Equinox

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Michaelmas season is my favorite time of year and I couldn't let it pass without some more photos.

The season started with the yellow flowers of September. The purple asters are called Michaelmas Daisies and I look for them (and find them) eve
rywhere this time of year. Rianna of These Days in French Life finds a color in each month and her September is the deep purple of grape and plum harvests. My September is the golden yellow and light of these flowers. My favorite colors in my favorite month.



The golden-rod is yellow
The corn is turning brown
The trees in the apple orchards
With fruit are bending down

The gentian's bluest fringes
Are curling in the sun
In dusty pods the milkweed
Its hidden silk has spun.

Sedges flaunt their harvest
In every meadow nook
And asters by the brook-side
Make asters in the brook

From dewy lanes at morning
The grapes' sweet odors rise
At noon the roads all flutter
With yellow butterflies

By all these lovely tokens
September days are here,
With summer's best of weather
And autumn's best of cheer.
Helen Hunt Jackson

September is also the month of the Vaux's Swifts roosting at Chapman School in Northwest Portland. It is an amazing natural event made even more amazing by all the awesome Portlanders who show up to watch it every night. The tiny birds nest and rear young all over the are but come together to roost in a chimney at the school before heading out on their fall migration south. There can be over 10,000 birds flying into the chimney on any given night in September and hundreds of people gathered to watch. It is a September ritual for many people in Portland, including myself.



"It looks like pepper flying in the sky!" I overheard a little girl say. "No! It looks like a dragon," her brother insisted. I agree.

Speaking of dragons, I started a new Michaelmas tradition this year by baking a dragon bread. This is a common activity in Waldorf schools and families but it was my first year doing it. A bread dragon is an excellent, hands on way to symbolize both the vanquishing of a dragon and incorporating it's lessons into our selves, and also the harvest aspect of the season.


Fresh baked bread's a yummy treat
Made with love and warmth and wheat
knead the dough, then let it rise
and soon you'll have a big suprise.
From the water, flour and yeast
grows a golden, delicious beast.
Unknown

I did get up for my Equinox sunrise ritual. It was a lovely, crisp morning at my fruit field. The mountain was visible and so was the old crescent moon. I found a pear to add to my dragon bread breakfast and watched the sun come up in a fiery orange blaze.

The autumn winds blow open the gate,
St. Michael for you we wait.
We follow you, show us the way,
With joy we greet this autumn day.
Good morning, good morning, good morning.

The silver rain, the shining sun,
the fields where scarlet poppies run,
the fallen leaves blow up and away,
with joy we greet this autumn day.
Good morning, good morning, good morning
Wynstones Press book Autumn (I believe)

Happy Michealmas!

In Autumn Saint Michael with sword and with shield,
Passes over meadow and orchard and field.
He's on the path to battle 'gainst darkness and strife,
He is the heavenly warrior protector of life.

The harvest let us gather with Michael's aid;
The light he sheddeth fails not nor does it fade
and when the corn is cut and the meadows are bare
We'll don Saint Michael's armour and onward we'll fare.

We are Saint Michael's warriors with strong heart and mind,
We forge our way through darkness Saint Michael to find.
And there he stands in glory, Saint Michael we pray,
Lead us into battle and show us thy way.
-Anonymous

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Autumn Equinox 2009: The Autumnal Equinox and The Earth is Breathing its Soul Back In

Autumn Equinox 2010: Here Be Dragons and A Dragon Tale for Michaelmas


Autumn Equinox 2011:
Michaelmas Season

Monday, September 26, 2011

Michaelmas Season

Autumn Equinox

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The season is swirling around and I am feeling very caught up in it. I love the ride, the golden light, the crisp mornings and hot afternoons, the change in birdsong and the ripening fruit, but I am also feeling pushed and pulled all over the place. I haven't found my new grip yet. Must be the turning of the wheel into autumn.

Autumn is my favorite time of year. I love the cooler days, the yellowing plants, and the harvest. I especially love the comforting feel of the constricting energy that fall brings. In the summer, the Earth is in the height of its long outbreath. It's soul is expelled fully out to outer reaches of it's atmosphere, touching the cosmos. This gives those of us on the surface energy and freedom. We want to be outside, live outside, be up early, stay up late, run and play and swim and be in the world. I tend to feel a little frayed by the end of it all, like last season's prayer flags, faded and rough around the edges. As the earth turns towards the Winter, it begins to breathe its soul back in. This constricting energy makes me feel like I'm being given some more boundaries. A bed time seems like a reasonable idea. Sitting down to dinner instead of just grabbing some food on the run makes sense. Rebuilding the rhythms of a life that includes work as well as play, rest as well as activity. It's the back-to-school season in more ways than one.

Fall, Leaves, Fall

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.

I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night's decay
Ushers in a drearier day.


-Emily Bronte

In my evolving wheel of the year, I call this time the Michaelmas Season. The story of Michael is one of a hero who harnesses heavenly and earthly powers to subdue and over come a primeval force of chaos and fear. There are many stories told about dragons and heroes this time of year and all of them help align us with this powerful movement of the seasons, both inner and outer.

My Quaker pastor, who's sermons are always a mix of hilarious and thoughtful storytelling, told a story this morning about a world plagued by a terrifying serpent. It lept out of the ground in a village, ripping up cobblestones, showering the area with rubble and dust, knocking people over and devouring the tinker's faithful mule. The villagers filled the hole in with rocks and logs, paved over the square and put up a statue to the mule. After a number of years the tinker was able to purchase a new-to-her mule and travel further afield selling her wares. She came upon a large city with towers and guards all around it. A friendly guard allowed her in and took her up on one of the towers to show her what the fortifications were all about. There were large cannons on each tower but instead of facing outwards, towards an enemy's army, the cannons faced inward, toward the town square. Specifically, facing the gaping hole in the middle of the square. The guard told her about the serpent and how the city had responded to the threat by building all these battlements. Everyone was expected to do their part in helping guard against the serpent threat, including a tax levied on traveling merchants and tinkers. The tinker owed, as it happened, exactly one mule.

In this time of year when we prepare ourselves for the coming darkness of winter we are also asked to prepare ourselves for the coming challenges of earthly life. There will be illness, poverty, pain, loneliness and eventually an end of this life. The story of the tinker and her mules mules reminds us that we can prepare for these inevitable burdens in any number of ways, some of which are actually more detrimental than beneficial. Michael provides us with heavenly iron to arm ourselves this time of year, but the real defense against debilitating fear is internal strength and courage. These things come from the dynamic interplay between God's love and providence, and our own willful building of our lives.

We wait in hope for the LORD;
he is our help and our shield.
In him our hearts rejoice,
for we trust in his holy name.
May your unfailing love be with us, LORD,
even as we put our hope in you.

Psalm 33:20-22, New International Version

I marked the Michaelmas with some of my favorite September activities. I put up my St. Michael and the Dragon mobile, watched the swifts at Chapman School and woke up for the sunrise on Equinox morning. I went again to my favorite fall fruit picking field and walked around as the sun creeped up behind Mt. Hood. I made dragon bread the night before, a new Michaelmas activity for me. Bread dragons are easy to vanquish and nourishing as well. At the field, I found a lovely pear tree in full fruit and happily accepted the gift. In prayer, I have been given the image of a pear tree, laden with full and heavy fruit hanging within easy reach, as an image of God's provisions available to me. Pears seem a perfect image for God's gifts. The fruit is earthy, woman shaped and sweet but bruises easily so must be conscientously picked and preserved. It is not a windfall treat.

As the sun came up, all pink and orange, over the misty autumn field I laid out my feast and said my thank yous. Thank you sun, thank you mountain. Thank you pear tree and grain field. Thank you morning and thank you evening. Most of all, thank you autumn!

How are you marking the turning of the wheel into Autumn? What dragons are you facing these days and how are you preparing to meet with them? Are your preparations costing you more mules than they need to? What's your favorite kind of autumn fruit?

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Autumn Equinox 2009: The Autumnal Equinox and
The Earth is Breathing its Soul Back In

Autumn Equinox 2010: Here Be Dragons and A Dragon Tale for Michaelmas

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Here Be Dragons

'Tis the season of the dragon. The story surrounding the festival of Michaelmas is one in which a dragon threatens a person or a community and a hero, harnessing the strength of heavenly iron and their own inner courage, fights and either slays or tames that dragon. The story of St. George and the dragon is the most well known story fitting this theme, but by no means the only one. The Chinese tale of Li Chi and the Serpent and even Tolkein's tale of Bilbo Baggins the Hobbit helping to slay Smaug the Dragon is of this pattern. One of my favorite literary pieces with this theme is Lewis Carroll's The Jabberwocky.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.'

Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!'

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood a while in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One two! One two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

'And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
Oh frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

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Dragons are a part of the mythology of almost every culture and have interestingly similar characteristics across vast geographical areas. In European culture dragons are large reptilian beasts that may have strange attributes like wings or talons and are usually terrifying. In Asian culture they tend to be more strictly reptilian and more benevolent. More like ancient spirits than malicious forces. Many folklorists believe that dragon stories come from the observation of dinosaur bones around the world. I tend to fall more into the camp of seeing dragon imagery as manifestation of ancient and deep fears.

The outer world is a very scary place and people of pre-literate consciousness (people of past times, of non-literate cultures and children) use imagry to wrestle with and come to terms with these fears. Medieval maps showed pictures of dragons in the empty, unknown places and everyone knew dragons or other monsters lived on high, uninhabited mountains or in deep, dark forests. We individuals with logical, literate consciousness can still access these images and use them to deal with the fears we face. We have less fear of the physical world - science and a generally more worldly understanding have given us answers to why earthquakes happen, whether summer will return again and how to deal with disease - but more fear of the inner world of our own minds and hearts. Dragons live there, too, in our insecurities, our loneliness and our anxieties about god and man and life.

Autumn is a time when our deep monkey brain is dealing with fears of the physical world. The days are shorter and colder and wetter - will there be enough food and warmth to make it until spring? At the same time, and probably not coincidentally, our feeling and thinking bodies are struggling with our fears of the inner world. We spend more time indoors, with just a few friends or alone. It is dark longer, giving us time and room to think those deep, dark thoughts. Who am I, really? Why am I here? Is it all worth it?

Sara at Love in the Suburbs reminds us that our dragons "deserve our attention again because they’ve been patient—even faithful—waiting for us to remember them." Stories and images of dragons and the heroes (or heroines, as the case may be) can be helpful in battling both sets of fears. Stories of individuals who find courage, with or without supernatural help, can help us find our own courage. Symbolic slaying of dragons through making and eating dragon bread or making and destroying dragon models can help us play out those battles in a safe way. The more I learn about the festivals Rudolph Steiner lectured about the more amazed I am at how deep and holistic his thinking is. This is deep stuff that works on so many levels at once, many of them we don't even understand or comprehend.

The morning of Michaelmas, Sept 29, I woke up dreaming about a dragon and knight mobile. I'm sure I had read about it on some Waldorf blog somewhere, but I couldn't find instructions or photos anywhere. So I made one. The wreath the figures hang from is wound ivy vines and Michael and the dragon are both made from silk tied around some polyester batting. I didn't have any dye so I just colored the dragon's silk green with markers. I pinned some felt pieces together to make the fire, sword and shield and tied it all up with some embroidery floss. It is still hanging above my bed. The dragon of fear and the heavenly hero twirling round and round during this autumn season of growing darkness.

How is the change of weather and daylight this autumn affecting your dragons? How do you use imagery, stories or poetry to pay attention to your dragons? What else do you do when feeling threatened by monsters? Have you ever made dragon bread or other dragon art? What's your favorite dragon story or poem?

Monday, September 20, 2010

A Dragon Tale for Michaelmas

Yorick and Sabra set out on their journey on a perfect day in the early autumn. They had been married in the early summer of that year and were now off to visit Sabra’s uncle, Gaspar, who lived in a large town on the other side of the mountains. They were mounted on beautiful white horses and had with them an ox pulling a cart full of fine clothes, jewelry, containers of oil and dried fruit and other fine things to give as gifts. They were deeply in love and excited about their trip.

On the second morning of their journey they followed the road down into a wooded hollow that, though it was on the road they had been told to take, was unfamiliar and dark.
“Are you not sure we should turn back and see if there is another road, Yorick?” Sabra asked as the shadows of the trees fell over them and sent a chill down her spine.
“Father said we should just follow the road and I don’t remember seeing a fork or a crossroads”, Yorick replied.
Just then they heard a terrible noise coming from the woods in front of them. It was the crunching of branches and the thudding and bellowing of something very large coming through the underbrush. The horses reared and both Yorick and Sabra lost their balance and fell to the ground. The horses dashed away and the ox tried to follow them but was too burdened by his cart to get very far. Just then they saw a terrible dragon crawl out of the forest and onto the road. It was larger than a cottage and various shades of brown along it’s lumpy, spiney back with a golden color on it’s belly. It’s ruby red eyes glared through the dark forest light and seemed to sparkle even more as it caught sight of the laden oxcart. It roared so loudly that leaves were shaken from near by trees. It filled the road ahead of the young people on the ground and they were terrified. The dragon lunged forward and grabbed the ox in its mouth the way a cat would carry a rabbit and dragged it, cart and all, back into the dark forest.
Yorick immediately jumped to his feet and yelling at the dragon to come back. Sabra stood up and grabbed his arm, “What are we going to do? Those were our presents for Uncle Gaspar. How are we going to get them back?”
“We’ll just have to go after it. We’ll corner it in its lair and get our cart back. We can find the horses and make them pull it.” He replied.
“Yes, of course” Sabra said, “Dragons are known to live in lairs full of gold. Perhaps we might even find more fine gold or jewels in the dragon’s den.”
Together they set off on foot easily following the tracks of the giant beast. Soon they reached the mouth of a cave littered with the bones of livestock and splintered wooden barrels, carts and even boats. They took each others hands and walked into the cave. Quickly the large cave opening narrowed into a smaller passageway that they had to stoop to go through.
“Odd, how could that giant dragon get through this small passageway?” Sabra asked. “I don’t know, but I can hear it breathing up ahead, we need to keep going,” Yorick replied.
The passage got smaller and smaller with more sharp rock pieces tearing at their clothes. Sabra’s fine scarlet cloak got caught as she slid down a steep section and she was forced to leave it behind. Yorick’s cap with it’s pheasant feathers as well as his short green mantle were both lost in another particularly narrow section. By the time they saw the light of the dragon’s inner den ahead they both thought grimly that they looked like paupers in only their riding trousers and undershirts.
The passageway opened up into a large chamber filled with gold, jewels, embroidered cloth and finely wrought armor of all kinds. On top of the pile lay the dragon, with Yorick and Sabra’s splintered cart at the bottom.
“Look, there’s our chest!” cried Sabra, “and the chain mail tunic you had made just for my cousin.”
At the sound of her voice the dragon awoke and roared loudly. It charged down its treasure mound right at the youth who dashed in opposite directions, grabbing for whatever they could find to hurl at the beast. Yorick’s first weapon, a large candlestick, gouged out one of the dragon’s eyes but was broken in half by the blow. Sabra tossed large gold bricks at the dragon to distract it while Yorick reached for a beautiful sword with a ruby set in the handle. The sword broke as soon as it hit the dragon’s skin, as did the silver and jade scimitar Sabra found.
They were feeling desperate, sure they could hold out no longer when Sabra spied two simple wooden spears propped up against the wall. She tossed one to Yorick,
“This can’t possibly help”, he bellowed, “you saw what the dragon’s skin did to the sword.”
“It’s our only hope!” Sabra cried.
Just then, the dragon reared up, ready to fall on Sabra with its powerful feet and jaws. She spotted a soft spot between two scales on the dragon’s belly and thrust her spear into it. The dragon bellowed, thrashing her with its claws but clearly wounded. Yorick rushed in and jammed his spear into another soft spot, killing the beast.
“Are you alright, Sabra, my love?” Yorick asked as he cradled her head.
“Yes, it only got my arm. It hurts, but I’ll be alright.”
“Let’s get out of here, quickly,” said Yorick.
“What about our treasure?” asked Sabra. “I don’t care about the gold or oil. I can’t carry it and help you and I’d much rather get you out,” he responded.
He ripped up a very fine tapestry to bandage her arm and together they made their way out of the cave. At the mouth of the cave they realized they had come out a different way than they had come in and they didn’t know where they were.
“Look, here’s a deer path through the forest. Let’s follow this until it comes to a field or road.” said Sabra.

They spent the night in a hollow stump, covering themselves with pine branches for warmth. The morning sun was a welcome sight and they set off along the path, sure they would find a road to take them home. Before the sun had gotten high in the noon day sky they saw a thinning of the trees ahead of them. Sure it would be a farmer’s field or a clearing along a high road they hurried forward. As they reached the edge of the trees they saw ahead of them not a friendly field but a large clearing with a deep, clear pool in the center. Disappointed, but fascinated at the beauty of the water, they walked forward together.
Yorick stepped to the edge of the pool first, kneeling down and cupping his hands to get a drink. Just as his hands touched the water a giant beast hurled its head out of the pool. It had a long neck and narrow head like a snake, small dark eyes and slimy blue grey scales like a carp. It screamed like a wildcat and as it fell back into the water it threw out a coil of its long body and pulled Yorick under the water with it.
“Nooo!” screamed Sabra as she ran up to the water’s edge. She could see the beast writhing around in the bottom of the crystal clear pool and could see Yorick still as death wrapped in its coils. She ran around the pool, desperately looking for some way to get to him or defeat the beast. She was truly terrified and could think of nothing but how much she loved Yorick and her fear that he was gone forever.
On the far side of the pool she saw a ledge under the water. On the ledge was what appeared to be a large gourd sunk into the pool, the type used to carry water and drink from. She had no idea how it would be useful, but she felt she needed to get it and it would help. She was scared, though. It was Yorick’s touching the pool that had caused the beast to rear up and capture him. Through her fear though, she knew what she had to do. She gathered all her courage and jumped into the pool, diving down to get the gourd.
The water dragon didn’t seem to notice that she was in the pool and as soon as she got back to the surface she started bailing water out of the pool with the gourd. A little voice in her head told her that what she was doing was silly - it was a very large pool and a rather small gourd to use to try to empty it. She didn’t stop though, bailing the water out of the pool with the gourd felt like the right thing to do. After a few moments of hauling water and tossing it behind her into the forest she looked up and noticed that the water level in the pool was visibly lower. She kept bailing and it seemed that each gourd full of water drew the water down significantly in the pool. Soon the dragon was no longer completely submerged and then it was hardly in the water at all. Sabra kept bailing and noticed that the parts of the dragon that were exposed to the air started to dry up like a dead snake that had been killed on the road and left in the sun. Just as she pulled what she thought must be the last gourd full of water out of the mud at the bottom of the pool she heard Yorick gasp.
She set the full gourd down and ran over to him, helping him untangle himself from the desiccated dragon coils. “Are you alright, my love?” she asked, holding him close.
“Yes, yes. I don’t remember anything after the dragon pulled me in, I must have been enchanted until just now when I woke up gasping for breath. How did you save me?”
“I found a gourd and drew water out of the pool, killing the dragon and lifting the enchantment” she explained.
“Thank goodness for that gourd. It is clearly magic and we should keep it with us.” he said.
They climbed the muddy bank of the now dry pool and Sabra picked up her magic gourd. She slung it over her shoulder by its carrying strap and they moved out of the clearing back into the forest. They soon found the high road they had been looking for and traveled along it until night fell. They slept that night in a ditch next to the road, covering themselves with fallen leaves for warmth.

In the morning they continued along the high road and it soon came out of the forest into a high, rocky land of short grass and gray skies. Ahead, on a high tor they saw a small castle with a tall tower. Many banners and flags flew from the tower and the surrounding walls flapping in the incessant wind.
“Whoever lives in that castle will be able to tell us how to find the road to Uncle Gaspar’s town.
“Quick, let’s hurry, I bet they’ll have warm food and beds to share as well!” Sabra exclaimed.
They hurried to the gate of the castle, only a little worried that they saw no signs of life around the castle except the flapping flags and a few crows on the rocks near the castle. As they got to the entrance to the castle they noticed the drawbridge was down, the portcullis was up with the gate was wide open. Sabra and Yorick took each other’s hands and walked into the castle.
As they entered the courtyard they heard a scream overhead like that of an eagle, only louder. A shadow passed over them and they looked up to see a giant dragon flying through the sky. It was pale yellow and sage green, silver blue and pearl pink with giant bat like wings and enormous spikes around its large head. Its long tail flashed in the sunlight as it circled around the castle. It swooped down and grabbed Sabra in its huge talons lifting her up into the air. It circled again and then landed on top of the castle keep, the large tower high above the courtyard Yorick was left standing in.
He ran into the main hall of the castle, intent on finding a way into the tower. As his eyes adjusted to the dark room he saw in the center of the room a low pedestal with a shaft of light falling down illuminating a creature sitting on it. She had the body of a lion, wings like a falcon and the head of a beautiful, dark skinned woman. Her eyes were closed, a deep purr came from her chest and her tail flicked around her body. Under her front paws lay a thin golden sword. Yorick approached the sphinx and she opened her eyes and looked at him. Her tail flicked again and she spoke, her voice warm, thick and deep, “What do you seek?”
“My wife,” Yorick replied. “The air dragon stole her away and took her to the top of the tower. I seek to save her and kill the dragon.”
“That will require great cunning and courage. Are you up to the task?”
“Yes, anything to get Sabra back.” said Yorick, feeling his chest fill with determination.
“Then I will help you,” purred the sphinx. “If you can answer my riddle then I will give to you this sword of discernment. It will help you cut away that which is unnecessary and find that which is true. If you fail this you will never succeed. Do you accept?”
“Yes”, Yorick repeated. “Anything to get Sabra back.”
“Then here is your riddle; what can fit in the pocket of your vest, costs pennies to buy or sell but when used can fill this whole hall.” She closed her eyes and purred a deep purr.
Yorick thought on this riddle. The earth dragon’s treasure filled a whole room, but it couldn’t fit in a pocket and certainly didn’t cost pennies. The leaves they slept under the night before fit in his pocket, in fact one was in there now, and it cost nothing at all but a single leaf couldn’t fill a whole room. Yorick looked around the hall, noticing the tapestries on the wall, his eyes following their geometric patterns up and down the wall. He watched the dust float in the shaft of light from a stained glass window and all of a sudden he knew the answer to the riddle.
“A match!” he cried. “A match is small enough to fit in my pocket, a whole box of them costs pennies but if I were to light a match in the dark it would fill the whole room with light. The answer is a match!”
“You are a clever young man. Use your wit well and you will defeat the air dragon. Here is the sword of discernment. The stairs to your left lead to the tower where you will find your wife and her captor.” The sphinx sat up and allowed Yorick to take the sword. She continued purring as Yorick ran for the door and up the stairs.
At the top of the tower he found a door that led out onto the platform roof of the tower. The wind buffeted him as he saw Sabra, perched on high part of the wall. As Yorick ran towards her the air dragon swooped down, knocking him back with its long tail. Yorick stood and slashed at the dragon as it came at him again. On the third pass Yorick’s sword made contact with the dragon and he severed one of the dragon’s talons. Yorick watched in awe as the limb vanished in a cloud of dust the moment it was separated from the dragon’s body. He lunged again as the dragon came back, confident in his ability now. He slashed again and took off the dragon’s other leg, then again taking off part of the tail. Each time the dragon screamed as a part of its body vanished into dust and was blown away by the wind. Again Yorick slashed and again part of the dragon’s wing, then its other wing, then the rest of its tail was severed. Finally Yorick severed the dragon’s head with one last might blow and the dragon’s body turned to golden dust, immediately swept away by the wind. All that was left was the jewel like head of the defeated dragon.
Sabra leapt down off the ramparts and into Yorick’s arms. “What brilliant sword work! You knew exactly what to do! Thank goodness for that sword and your skill in handling it.” They held each other for a moment and then looked around at the land below them.
“Look over there” cried Yorick, “that town on the river, that must be Uncle Gaspar’s town. See the three bridges crossing the river?”
“Oh yes!” agreed Sabra. “And look that road just a few miles off leads right over that mountain pass to the town. We just have to follow that road.”

The two set off at once for the main road and the town with three bridges crossing the river. The way was harder than it seemed from up on the tower, though, and the sun was setting before they reached the mountain pass they had seen. They continued walking for another few hours but when they saw snow on the ground around them along the road they found a small cave to huddle into until morning.
In the early hours of the morning, when the sky and ground were the same shade of flat grey Sabra woke from her cramped, cold sleep. She shook Yorick awake though he was so tired that he was in a very bad mood at being woken.
“Yorick, we should get up and start walking. We could be at Uncle Gaspar’s in time for lunch.” She whined.
“Leave me alone,” he mumbled, “I can sleep until the sun is up.”
At that Sabra got quite angry and insisted that he get up. He got angry in turn and soon they were yelling at each other. They had had a few very hard days and their tempers were short. After just a few minutes their argument was cut short by a very loud noise that started with a trumpet, had a squeal in the middle and ended with a hiss. Then the sky outside their small cave lit up and they smelled burning sulfur and smoking grass.
Their argument finished they jumped up to see what had made that terrible sound; a giant dragon that looked like it was all aflame. Its head and neck were fringed with orange scales and its body scales were red and black, like burning coals. It was larger than any of the dragons they had yet seen and it blew fire from its mouth with each trumpeting squeal. Its footprints melted the snow and singed the grass as the dragon came closer to Yorick and Sabra. It screamed at them one more time, shooting flames right at them. They quickly dove behind a large rock and watched the flames ricochet around them. The sleeve of Yorick’s tunic caught fire and without even thinking Sabra dumped some of the water from the magic water gourd she carried onto him. It immediately doused the flames, but her gourd was still full.
As the dragon moved around the rock toward them she threw water right into it’s face. The dragon threw its head up, hissing and smoking but could not seem to make more flames come out of its mouth. It lunged at them again and they ran back out into the road. The dragon followed them and Yorick turned, the sword he got from the sphinx in his hand. He slashed at the dragon and made contact with one of the fiery horns on its head. The horn was sliced off and disintegrated, just like the pieces of the air dragon, but immediately grew back. Yorick and Sabra were able to duck behind a large rock.
“What are we going to do?” Sabra asked as the dragon paced around the rock getting closer and closer.
“I don’t know,” replied Yorick. “The rock saved us, and the water from your magic gourd doused its flames. It backed off away from my sword for a bit but it’s coming closer. I don’t know if there is anything more we can do.”

Just then the morning sun burst above the horizon with blazes of gold and red. It illuminated the sky and the snow around them in shades of pink, rust and lemon yellow. Sabra and Yorick stared at it in awe and as the disk of the sun reached above the horizon they saw an amazing sight. Seeming to come out of the sun itself was a man, or an angel, or a warrior demon. He flew on giant golden eagle wings, his scarlet tunic and mantle flapping around him in the wind of his own making. In his right hand a flaming sword and in his left a shield with a red and gold cross on a white background. Around him, also seeming to come out of the sun itself flew flaming comets.
The comets hit first, one landing square in the dragon’s side causing it to stagger and bellow. As the angel got closer it engaged in a mighty battle with the dragon, flying around, slicing at it with his sword as the dragon ducked, lunged and snapped with its huge teeth. After what seemed like ages but also just a moment the angel thrust it’s sword into the dragon’s throat and the dragon fell heavily to the ground, pelted by the meteorites that continued to fall from the sky.
For a moment the angel stood atop the defeated dragon and smiled at Yorick and Sabra. He handed them each small bits of metal, the inner core of two comets that had burned out after hitting the dragon.
“You have fought well, my children, and you have won this battle. Take these pieces of heavenly iron as reminders of the dangers you have overcome. The memory of your battles and of my love for you will give you the courage to face whatever dangers the future holds. You are good, brave and strong. You will persevere and help others learn what you had to fight dragons to know.”
With that the angel flapped his wings and disappeared into the rising sun. Yorick and Sabra turned, their heavenly iron meteorites in one hand, their others around each others waists, and set off towards their Uncle’s home.

*** *** ***

The story is original and copyrighted, Alyss Broderick.

The images are from the Druid Animal Oracle by Stephanie and Philip Carr-Gomm. Please click on the images, or this link for more information.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

The Earth is Breathing Its Soul Back In

“The original idea of any sacred festival is to make the human being look upward from his dependence on earthly things to those things that transcend the Earth.”
- Rudolph Steiner

Rudolph Steiner was a visionary and philosopher who lectured profusely through the early decades of the 20th century. He developed a model of thinking about human life that he called anthroposophy and is the founder of the Waldorf school movement. At the center of Steiner's philosophy is the understanding of man as a three fold being of body, spirit and soul and much of his work focuses on how we can balance and align these three parts of ourselves to meet our personal and cultural soul destiny.

One of the tools Steiner advocated for aligned our beings with the cosmic rhythm of the universe is the seasonal festival. He incorporated many elements of esotaric Christianity in his philosophy but, conciously or not, his descriptions of the festivals corresponds amazingly well with the pre-Christian wheel of the year festivals that I celebrate and talk about in this blog. Waldorf schools are the main celebrants of these festivals today and each group chooses different festivals to focus on, much like ancient pagan groups would have chosen some of the 8 quarter and cross quarter days to celebrate with a big party. The main festivals Waldorf or Steiner followers celebrate are Christmas (Dec 24), Candlemas (Feb 2), Easter and possibly Pentecost/Whitsun (March/April/May), May Day, St. John's Day (June 24), Michaelmas (Sept 29) and Martinmas (Nov 11). It is obvious that the dates align with the wheel of the year celebrations but I am more and more amazed that the essence behind the festivals is so similar as well.

This is the time of year of Michaelmas, the time when summer is tipping into Autumn. Steiner writes of the rhythm of the earth's year as being like any other living thing's rhythm. It includes outbreaths and inbreaths - times of being expansive and times of being contractive and huddled. He speaks of midwinter, around Christmas and the solstice, as being the most contractive part of the Earth's year and as a time when the Earth's soul, it's life force, is contained deep within her. At the other end of the rhythm is midsummer when the soul of the earth is completely exhaled and at one with the universe. Michaelmas represents the time when the Earth is breathing it's soul back in. Humans can use the spirit of this time to bring the universe's cosmic wisdom to bolster our will and courage as we face the dark days of winter and the dark times in our lives.

But these are big, unweildly concepts that aren't very practical, or much fun. Waldorf education uses stories to introduce academic material and the story associated with Michaelmas is that of the Archangel Michael, or St. George under the protection of Michael, battling a dragon with his sword of heavenly iron. Depending on who is doing the telling and who is doing the hearing the story could take the form of this classic tale of St. George and the Dragon, this tale of Li Chi and the Serpent, this lovely story in verse from the Wynstones Press book Autumn or any other story that shows an individual standing up against a large, scary force or being. Michaelmas activities include a pageant retelling the story, baking dragon shaped bread, tasks of courage and strength and parties featuring blackberries (one story says that Lucifer/The Dragon fell into a blackberry briar when he was defeated and so the fruit is no good to eat after Michaelmas). All much more accessable, and fun than deep philosophy, don't you think?

The Festivals that Rudolph Steiner writes of have captured my imagination thorougly these last few months. I know already that the celebrations marking the wheel of the year mirror cosmic truths and that symbols and stories help bring those truths to an accessable level. The writings of Steiner and the activities of all the Waldorf families and schools that have brought his writings to life have illuminated this knowledge in a whole new way for me though. And equally importantly, have given me some new ideas as to why it is important to celebrate the turning of the wheel - both to celebrate the turning itself and to use the reflection of our lives in the turning of the year to make our selves, our families and our communities the best they can be.

"The Festivals have become abstractions, matters of indifference to modern people. The word as a medium of strife and blasphemy often means more than the Word conceived as the power by which the world itself was created. Yet the alphabetical word ought to be the representative, the symbol of the Word Creative in Nature around us, in the great universe and within us too when self-knowledge awakens, and of which all mankind can be made conscious by those who truly understand the course of Nature. It was for this that the Festivals were instituted and with the knowledge we have gleaned from Spiritual Science we will try to understand what it was that the wise men of old set out to express in the... Festival[s]."

- Rudolph Steiner


For more information on Rudolph Steiner, Waldorf schools and the Steiner/Waldorf festivals, check out some of these resources:



Monday, September 21, 2009

The Autumnal Equinox

The cross quarter day in the fall is the autumnal equinox also called Mabon or Harvest Home. It is the second harvest of the year, the harvest of the fruits and the grapes. Like the spring equinox it is a time of balance between light and dark but this time with the tipping into winter rather than into summer. It is one of my favorite times of the year.

Every fall I look forward to what I call the Perfect Time of Year. The Perfect Time of Year is defined as a time when the leaves are changing but not yet falling, and though it's warm enough for shorts in the afternoon it is cool enough to want a sweatshirt in the morning and the evening. I thought it was going to come last weekend, but then it got up to 90 degrees for two days in a row. Too hot! This weekend, however, we had two perfect days. Fantastic!

Other signs of the season include a real change in the quality of the sunlight. The weather report claims it will be 90 degrees today, but this morning was cold enough for a sweatshirt. Once it was warm enough to take off the sweater it was still cool in the shade. The sun's movements in the sky are making evening driving a challenge these days too. My drive home includes the infamous Terwilliger Curves on I-5 south out of downtown Portland. The interstate makes a 90 degree turn from south to due west before turning south west and eventually south. It is known for it’s accidents and traffic snarles but I was shocked at how bad the traffic was last week. As I inched up on the turn I realized what was happening. All summer I would have to pull down my car’s visor as I made the turn to shade my eyes from the sun coming around the curve and out of the shadow of the hill. The close-to-equinox sun wasn’t just lighting the freeway, though, it was blinding drivers! The shortening days caused the coincidence of the low sun with the evening commute, and the equinox sun is sets directly in the path of the west facing highway. Those of us driving that one mile of road in that one hour of time were blinded to the point of driving 5 miles an hour on the freeway. Luckily, the wheel keeps turning and soon the sun will be setting before my commute, and further to the south. See, winter isn’t all bad.

As for the other solstices and equinoxes I woke up for the sunrise. I always enjoy doing something for the sunset the night before a sunrise morning and the Autumnal Equinox in Portland offers a perfect opportunity. Vaux's Swifts, a small swallow like bird, spend the summer in the woods and neighborhoods around town but come together in large flocks before heading south for the winter. In September these flocks roost in hollow standing trees or chimneys and get as large as the roosting sites allow. There is a school in NW Portland with a large chimney that supports a flock of swifts that can grow as large as 15,000 birds. It's a Portland tradition to pack a picnic dinner, a blanket (and cardboard for sliding down the hill if you are so inclined) and go to Chapman School to see the swifts come in for the evening. It is a breathtaking event with the sky filled with birds spiraling and swooping around. If you are lucky the hawk will show up for an evening snack sending the flock into a frenzy. Even more amazing is the thousands of people - yes thousands - who show up every night to be in awe of this event. The ooh and awws as the flock forms a tight spiral, the gasps as the hawk divebombs, the cheers as the swifts chase him off. The night I went the crowd actually broke into applause when the last swifts popped down into the chimney. It really is a sight to behold!

The next morning I woke up in time to catch the sunrise at a field I go to in the fall to collect wild fruit. Tumalo and I walked around as the sky turned from grey to gold and watched the rays of sunlight peek over Mt. Hood. I've been reading about Waldorf schooling and Michalemas recently (and will write a blog post about it soon) and the sunlight bursting over the mountain reminded me of a story by Reg Down that is told in Waldorf circles at this time of year. It is called The Most Beautiful Dragon in the World and is about a dragon who was very vain and tried to eat the autumn sun because he thought it was more beautiful than he was. The morning sun that day certainly looked to me as beautiful as any dragon could be.

What changes in the sun, the sky and the earth are you noting as autumn ramps up into full gear this year? Have you noticed the sun setting in odd places this month or seen animals getting ready for winter? What is beautiful to you about this time of year? Happy equinox!