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 /|\