nature

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A Widow Skimmer on Sage

This widow skimmer dragonfly and I have shared space all summer. The blue abdomen indicates that it is a male and the white bands on the wings signify a mature adult. He has converted an old sage stalk in my garden into his personal watchtower. I had been thinking of the stalk as finished, but the dragonfly clearly disagrees. Most evenings he returns to the same spot, surveys the garden for mosquitoes, and rests on the sage stalk between hunts.

Lughnasadh is described as the beginning of the harvest and it is generally my cue to gather the sage to be dried for incense and ritual. When I prepare for a rite, I pause and leave behind whatever occupied the previous few minutes. I light a candle since fire has long marked the beginning of sacred activity. I burn incense—usually sage, though sandalwood, cedar, or juniper work equally well. The scent changes the atmosphere and helps settle my attention. I recite a personal mantra and signal the crossing of the threshold with a gesture. Only then do I begin the rite itself.

The summer’s work comes to fruition in the next few weeks. In my garden, the herbs are at their peak and ready to be gathered. The tomato plants have several weeks of production ahead, with most of the fruit still green. An entire bush of unidentified chilies is only now turning from yellow-green to orange. The zucchini plants have exhausted themselves but the butternut squash is only approaching its time on stage. It’s going to be a busy few weeks gathering, preserving, and storing the harvest. However, there’s nothing better than being able to cook with homegrown produce through the winter months. 

In Celtic tradition, Lughnasadh is associated with craft as much as agriculture. Harvest time can be more than collecting what nature provides. It is often about transforming it into something useful—a loaf of bread, a woven basket, a bundle of dried sage, or a jar of preserved vegetables. Perhaps that is the deeper lesson of the season. Harvest is not only receiving what the land offers, but discovering what care and skill can make from it.

I expect the dragonfly will be around for a few more weeks. I will leave his watchtower in place so he can continue clearing the garden of mosquitoes.  

SeanR /|\

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Spring Equinox in North Carolina: A Shift in Light

Around March 20th each year, the spring equinox marks a precise point in the Earth’s orbit: day and night come into near alignment, and the sun sits directly over the equator. From here, daylight begins to extend more decisively across the Northern Hemisphere. In North Carolina, that shift is already visible to us. Mornings arrive earlier, afternoons hold their brightness longer, and the sun carries more warmth even when the air has not fully caught up.

On the ground, the season is moving, but not in a straight line. We are experiencing temperatures swing from warm to cold and back again, sometimes within a few days. Redbuds have already passed through their brief bloom, while other trees are only beginning to wake. Birdsong has picked up noticeably, especially in the early morning hours. Frogs are active in wetter areas at dusk. Rain is still needed, and when it comes it feels necessary rather than inconvenient. Then a stretch of warm sun returns and resets everything again. It’s an uneven pattern, but the direction is clear.

Within the Druid tradition, the spring equinox is often associated with equilibrium. It is light and dark held in near parity. In OBOD, that idea is best approached through direct observation rather than abstraction. The equinox is a transition point. Conditions are shifting, but they have not stabilized. The last frost date has not yet passed, even as garden centers and hardware stores begin to fill with early plants. There is a tension between what is emerging and what is still possible and recognizing that tension is part of understanding the season.

Observance does not need to be elaborate. Step outside at sunrise and register the quality of the light. Walk a familiar route and note what has changed over the past few weeks. In the garden, clear a space, ready the soil, make a plan. However, hold back where needed. There is still risk in planting too early but we can prepare for what comes next. The equinox marks a point on the calendar, while the season itself is still unfolding. Paying attention now sets the tone for everything that follows. At Awen’s Light Grove, we celebrate the equinox with ritual, and if you would like to be part of that, use the contact form on this page to get in touch. We would love to hear from you.

/|\ SeanR