solstice – Marble Crow

My Handsome Assistant and I like to go cabin camping in winter. Rates are usually lower, things are less crowded, he’s got PTO to use up (or else lose), and there isn’t usually much else to do. A change of scenery does us both good, even if it’s only for a couple of days. It’s also nice to experience the time around the solstice like this.

(We half-jokingly say it’s glamping, because there’s a shower, sheets, heating, and a mini-fridge. Either way, it’s nice and I much prefer it to most of the hotels I’ve been to.)
(Even the fancy ones.)

However, while we anticipated a possibly-snowy getaway/creative retreat to work on music, fiction writing, and so on, what we got was… 60° F (15.5° C) and a meteor shower.

Did any of yas know there was a meteor shower? I didn’t. The only ones I usually pay attention to are the ones that occur over the summer here, like your Delta Aquarids and Perseids, and I have been Missing. Out.

I only realized when I was sitting in bed one night, drinking tea and looking out at the forest through the window, all cozy and idyllic and junk. An object, about as large and bright as the brightest star in the sky, flared to life, moved across the sky, and disappeared. I was, of course, surprised — a shooting star without a tail? A “drone” with an oddly predictable flight pattern and only one light? A hallucination?

As it turns out, it was most likely part of the Quaternid meteor shower. This one is, apparently, often overlooked. It has a short period of peak activity and happens in late December/early January, so most people miss it. Also, the Quaternid meteors usually don’t have long tails. They do, however, produce some very bright, striking fireballs. So that was neat.

The next day, we spent the late morning going for a walk. With the weather as strangely warm as it was, it turned out to be ideal conditions for finding some very interesting specimens of fungi and beautiful colonies of lichen and moss.

Unfortunately for me, most common culinary species of mushrooms and boletes make me very ill. (Oyster mushrooms, why won’t you let me love you?!) I also have only a passing interest in identifying them, since my interest is primarily visual.

A photo of a small brown bolete, with angry eyes and fang-y teeth clumsily drawn on. — It has been years, but I am still inordinately proud of this very, very silly picture.

I’m what you might call an amateur “catch and release” forager. I love looking at them. I love their folklore. I love finding them. I love taking pictures of them. Sometimes, I’m even able to identify them. I get really stoked when I find ones that a) I recognize, b) are useful, and c) won’t try to make me yakk everything I’ve eaten since fourth grade. But that’s neither here nor there.

Look! We found cool mushrooms and assorted other little forest buddies!

A starburst of lichen growing amid some fluffy green moss. Tiny raindrops cling to some of the strands of moss like pearls.

I don’t care how common moss, lichen, and little beige mushrooms are, I will be excited about them absolutely every time. Like a person calling their spouse over every time their cat does something adorable, I will never not be endlessly delighted by them whenever I see them.

Several small, round mushrooms on a rotting stump. — A cluster of what are most likely stump puffballs (Lycoperdon pyriforme).

A white polypore mushroom growing, like a dish, from the side of a fallen branch. — A cluster of what are most likely stump puffballs (Lycoperdon pyriforme).

I don’t even need to know what kind they are, I’m just happy to have them around.

Here’s hoping your days are similarly filled with interesting small things.

This weekend was the Summer Solstice, one of the High Days for Druids and other neo-Pagans. It’s the longest day of the year — the turning point where the daylight hours begin shortening and the world turns slowly, inevitably, into the restful darkness of winter.

This year, I celebrated by myself. There were plenty of Zoom rituals, streams from Stonehenge, and other online celebrations to take part in, but I wanted to keep my ritual for myself. It’s one thing I’ve found very helpful on my path. The High Days have their traditional meanings, but they just feel different depending on where (and who) you are. A California Solstice feels differently from a Maryland one, and neither is quite the same as a New York one! Celebrating by myself lets my experience shape the ritual, and makes it more relevant and meaningful to me.

_{(I’m also really self-conscious about screwing up the order or forgetting the wording, so it’s easier if I’m not doing it in front of a crowd.)}

*Ahem*

The day before the Solstice, I paid rent to Manannán mac Lir. On the Solstice on the Isle of Mann, worshippers go to the highest hill to make offerings to “pay rent” to the first King of the island. Needless to say, I am not on the Isle of Mann and don’t have a high hill, but I make do. With a bowl, fresh water, a few pinches of Celtic sea salt, and yellow flowers (roses, in this case, and a few drops of sweet ylang ylang), I made my offerings and ad libbed a prayer.

To be honest, I ad lib most of my prayers and ritual work. I might post a spell outline here and there, but rituals? I follow the basic ADF structure, but it’s all improv from there. I’m lucky I can remember my own name half of the time, let alone an entire ritual!

The Solstice is a time of brightness, optimism, and joy, coupled with the acknowledgement that the warmth and light of summer must come to an end. It’s the time when the Oak King and Holly King do battle, and the Holly King emerges victorious. It’s been a little tough to see the brightness and joy this year, but the warmth is there nonetheless.

For anyone who’s missed it, I’m still donating all of the proceeds from tarot readings in my Etsy shop to Black Lives Matter. If you’ve already donated to a Black-led organization of your choice, send me a screencap of the confirmation (redact whatever information you need to) and I’ll happily give you a free 3-card reading at no charge.

May we all have peace and justice as the light wanes and the Earth turns toward repose.

Tag: solstice

Meteors and Mushroom Hunting in (checks notes) December.

The Summer Solstice, and Paying the Rent to Manannán mac Lir