I’ve embraced the Hermit throughout the month of August (An Lùnastal in Scottish Gaelic), and although I gathered with friends at the end of July, I celebrated the festival of Lùnastal on my own, beneath the first shining crescent of the new moon. I offered praise and thanks to the new moon and the harvest, while very mindful of their connection.
It was the first time that I’d celebrated the harvest in this way. I was drawn to do so in honour of my late father, who felt a great connection with the Highlands of Scotland, and was known to observe and comment on the look of the clouds, the health of a tree, or the phase of the moon. I’ve no doubt that he carried on habits long-held by our ancestors who, like my Dad, lived close to nature.
While growing up here in multicultural Canada, I was thrilled by the many rich samplings of music, dance, costume, and food that were on offer from friends and neighbours, as well as the greater community. It wasn’t until I was well into adulthood that I recognized how full of culture, Highland culture, my own family was. Grandma, whose grandparents were farmers from Scotland (and Ireland) always insisted on a large gathering around August 1st, my Mom and her sisters were passionate about good hospitality, and the Hallowe’en (Samhainn or Samhuinn in Scottish Gaelic) bonfire was always at our house. I could go on, but I’ll save it for another day.
And so, as the moon grows to fullness over the coming hours, the gratitude I feel for all that I may harvest also grows. I wish you all a happy and bountiful season.
I found some barley growing in the back garden. After harvesting, I propped the stalks against a fence to be photographed with another surprise – a young volunteer Red Oak.
Brigid's Creel 