A Dreamy Litha: Summer Solstice Rituals
“I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being.” – Hafiz of Shiraz
Midsummer has arrived in the Australian Alps, and the high heat of the sun is beginning to paint the landscape in a palette of shimmering gold and hazy pink. The faeries are calling me down to the meadows of dandelion and daisy, and the weather is now warm enough to seek out solitude in quiet corners of the sweetwater river. Here I can seek out a little rockpool, pretending I’m a water nymph, and listen to the sound of the healing waters rushing by, cleansing my soul and refreshing my spirit. The long days have taken on a lazy, dreamy energy, and I find myself contemplating the meaning of Litha, and found this quote to be the perfect companion to my thoughts at this time of year – “I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being.”
Litha marks the summer solstice, the point on the wheel of the year when the day is the longest, and to me, it really feels like a festival of the sun. Also known as Midsummer, it is a time when the veil is thin and the fae folk come out of the shadows to dance in the light. These pagan holidays are rich with symbolism that predate the world religions and find meaning in the rhythm and cycles of nature.
This year, in the Southern Hemisphere, Litha falls on the 22nd of December, and I must admit, it can all be a little overwhelming when we are also celebrating Yule a few days later with our brothers and sisters in the North. So, I often refer to this holiday as Litha-mas and intend to take it slow and, in true hedgewitch style, I like to do things a little differently. So, in this episode, you’ll see how I blend the traditions of both festivals into one magical celebration of light, love, and hope. And, I’m letting the faeries guide me and inspire me to fill this day with flowers, fruits and sunshine, and things to delight my inner child. Litha is, after all, about that youthful energy that summer brings, providing so much scope for the imagination!
If you would like to join me, in my latest episode of ‘The Rambling Rose’, I’ll be celebrating by making a lovely peach and lemonbalm iced tea to enjoy with a book in the shade. I’ll also take a little dip in the Sweetwater River, make a flower altar to the goddess Freya, and paint a chapter header for my new book ‘Wild Faerie Magick’. I hope you’ll enjoy it!
Watch the full episode here:
An Australian Faerie Tale
Once upon a time, in an ancient land of platypus and pink bottlebrush, desert pea and rainbow lorikeet, there lived a quiet little girl, with a big imagination. She loved nothing more than to escape into fantasy realms. Books became portals to fairy kingdoms, where unicorns danced in butterfly meadows and dragons slept in caves of gold & gemstones. She loved books so much, that she began to make her own. With her pencils and crayons, she told tales of enchanted animals and brave little vikings, cities beneath the sea and exotic islands lost in time.
This little girl was born on a day when the veil between the worlds was very thin. Where she lived, it was Samhain, All Hallow’s Eve, a night when spirits walked the earth at midnight, witches danced under the moonlight, and much magic and mischief was afoot. But, on the other side of the world, it was Beltane, a time of flowers and sunshine and merriment, when Queen Flora set all the flowers alight, bursting with colour and joy. Being born in the month of May, she was a child of The Willow tree, sensitive and artistic, deeply connected with nature, and aligned with the emotional energy of the moon.
Her very favourite book was ‘Elves & Fairies’ by a most enchanted Australian Cottage Witch named Ida. Ida was born in the late 1800s, and she was, perhaps, the first of her kind to really ‘see’ the magic of the fae in the Australian bush. She sensed their presence in the fluffy yellow wattle flowers, taking flight on the backs of willy wagtails and kookaburras, and wearing little gumnut hats.
The little girl was so enchanted by Ida and her beautiful illustrations, that she dreamed of becoming an artist too... when she was all grown up. But, as is the way with so many children, the girl grew up and moved to the city, and got lost in grown up ways. She saw that the world of man, of concrete and steel, was often sad, and cold and cruel. And so, her magical pencils began to gather dust as the little flower wilted under artificial lights, the brilliant sunshine far away, and the enchanted forest and her faerie friends forgotten.
But one day, many years later, she returned to the forest. And sure enough... her faerie world was waiting for her, as if not a minute had passed. Upon her return, she heard bells chiming and the soft sound of laughter on the breeze. Wild violets peeked out from underneath leaves, ferns unfurled their delicate fronds, and... a patch of four leaf clovers appeared. Recognising this sign that the fae folk were near, she closed her eyes and asked ‘beloved faeries, please will you give me my name?” She waited a moment, holding her breath, and the answer came sweetly on the breeze – oh, the most beautiful perfume filled the air, and upon her return home, there, gowing wild amongst the blackberry brambles and bottlebrush at her front fence... a rambling rose.
So dear ones, I guess you’re curious to know... do I really believe in faeries? Well, I certainly do... but, not in the way you may think. Let’s make a nice cuppa and have a chat about it, shall we?
Faeries, I believe, are multidimensional beings, in a sense, they exist on many levels. In one way, I believe they exist in our imaginations, in our stories and folklore, indeed, our history and culture. And to my mind, what exists in the imagination, exists. Simple as that. Being a hedgewitch, a clairvoyant, who ‘jumps the hedge’ between worlds, it doesn’t seem at all strange to me to consider that the things I see with my eyes closed, in dreams or otherwise, are as real – sometimes more so, than those I see in my waking world.
But I also believe that they exist, in a form, in what we humans call our reality – I believe they are the spirits of the plants and we can ‘see’ them with our imagination and our intuition. Even communicate with them, if we learn the language of the plants. Each flower, fern and tree has a spirit – it’s very own faerie, that takes flight from time to time, not only on the wings of our imagination, but on those of dragonflies, birds and butterflies, and all the lovely creatures of the air.
Have you ever read the book ‘The Hidden Language of Trees?’. It is a fascinating book that tells of the intricate language that connects these living beings. At one point, when all matter was forming from star stuff, we were one and the same. And I believe we have simply lost the ability to ‘hear’ them... but I also believe, deep down, we know in our DNA this language. Indeed, Biologists, ecologists, foresters, and naturalists all increasingly argue that trees speak, and that humans can learn to hear this language.
When we communicate with plant spirits, when we tend a garden lovingly, or stop to smell a rose, or whisper to a seedling, we are communicating with the fae. At least, that’s what I believe. And the more we open our minds and hearts to this language, the more like the fae, we inevitably become.
You may have guessed by now that I am deeply connected to my inner child, and try to live my life according to the wishes of that little girl with the big imagination. As children, we can see and hear faeries because our minds are still open to the world of magic and wonder. When we see the world through the eyes of a child we see all things with curiosity, and the unknown becomes a secret door to a world of possibility. So, I’m very certain that the faeries LOVE it when we embrace our inner child.
I will share more on ways to connect with the faeries in future episodes of ‘The Rambling Rose’, but I thought it might be nice to start by crafting a spell jar to attract them into your garden, and call in good luck and abundance. You don’t need to have a physical garden for this spell to work, as the garden is simply a metaphor for life. If you tend to your goals with love and intention, and offer your kindness and childlike curiosity to the faeries, you will be blessed with abundance. And you know what? This spell really works! I will share this spell in detail as a printable page for my Patreon supporters, and over on my blog, but for now, you can follow along on my vlog.
Watch the full episode here:
Sowing a Secret Garden & Harvesting Purple Veggies
I stumbled upon the quote, ‘The secret garden bloomed and bloomed, and every morning revealed new miracles.” It is from the beloved book ‘The Secret Garden’ by Frances Burnett Hodges, and I recall that this story is about healing. A garden left abandoned and forgotten for a decade, just like the little orphan Mary herself, is brought back to life with love and care. With the help of a robin, Mary discovers the key and slowly begins to interact with the seasons, the dirt, and the flowers – and both she, and the garden are beautifully transformed.
I loved this quote, because gardening has healed me too, and I feel like we are healing each other. Every morning, when I walk to the back of my garden to let my chickens out to roam and forage, I always stop to marvel at something new and beautiful that seems to have appeared overnight, every day a new surprise. It does feel like a secret place, away from the world, where I can let my imagination wander.
I have big dreams for my secret garden this season, and want to try my luck at growing flowers from seed, to fill out any little gaps in the garden beds. I have names for each an every one, there’s the moon garden, the faerie garden that I planted for my birthday last year, and... a new rose goddess garden centered around a stunning bird bath.
It’s all a bit wild and weedy in my garden and my excuse is the incredible amount of rain we’ve had these past few months. La Nina is in its third consecutive year here in Australia. And I must say, the weather has really challenged my co-creative gardening skills. I do love a good cosy rainy day, but I am itching to get out in the garden and get to work. I guess this weather is just another life lesson taught to me by nature. You can only do your best, and that’s always good enough.
Co-creative gardening is where you work with all the forces of nature and the plant spirits, working together rather than imposing your will. It’s not neat and tidy, it’s rambling and shifting, like a conversation, thanking the plants for all that they provide, and asking them what they need in return. I always talk to my plants, giving them tender words of encouragement and explaining what is going on and where and why I’ve planted them. I also play them classical music, especially when transplanting, to help settle them into their new home. I often place crystals in their pots, and when I’ve planted something new, I sit with it for a moment, and with one hand on my heart and one over the plant, close my eyes and visualise sending them love and joy, picturing them growing beautiful and strong and leafy and blooming, season after season.
At the end of Djilba season, just after the equinox, is just about the right time to harvest the last of the winter greens, and prepare the beds for the season’s crop. In the last episode, I talked a little about colour magic, and how simply reading the colour of a plant is a simple way to reveal it’s healing or magical properties. Purple is associated with the crown chakra, the portal to other dimensions and higher states of consciousness. When you see this colour in a fruit or vegetable, you know it’s high in anthocyanins, which are known to improve vision and have neuro-protective effects. I love it when modern science figures out an ancient kind of magic that pagans have intutively known for centuries, don’t you?
I’m so pleased that the purple kohlabi, kale and cauliflower all did so well this year, even with so much neglect, and I’m going to use them to make fritters with kale pesto (and share the recipe with everyone on Patreon!)
All of my brassicas are going to seed now, and the bees are loving it. Some might say I’ve made a mistake in planting too many varieties together, and letting them all flower at once, as this means they will likely cross pollinate and create strange and not so productive hybrids... but I’m happy experimenting and practicing an intuitive gardening style. I feel like this is more magical and special. This way, I’m creating my own unique little ecosystem, complete with weeds and beneficial insects, and letting the plants surprise me. After all, its a secret garden, and its designed to reveal new miracles.
But, in order to create a truly magical cottage garden – one that attracts beautiful birds, butterflies and bees... and, of course, faeries – one needs to grow more than just herbs and vegetables. Flowers are of course, essential to the secret garden of my dreams. And this year, I’ve collected some really exciting varieties of flower seeds.
Now, being an artist, I have a loose colour palette in mind for each of my garden zones – It feels like painting a Monet, dabbing pastels and jewel tones across my garden canvas, hopefully creating a dreamlike harmony, and an enchanted place that I will want to spend my summer days in, reading books and drinking iced tea, chatting to the faeries and chasing butterflies.
When it comes to planting seeds in seedling trays, I think there’s something quite meditative about little repetitive tasks. And of course, being outside in the fresh air, and working with soil, is so healing. I often feel that gardening is a metaphor for life, and I ponder the quote; ‘the seed never sees the flower’. I find it so profound to think that, in the passage of time, this tiny seed, will never know the magnificence that it will one day become. It makes me think of my younger self, little Nancy, and I wish she could see the woman we have become, all of the beautiful art we’ve made and the home and garden I know she’d love.
So, I hope you will join in the fun with me as I plan out my garden, harvest some veggies, sow seeds for an enchanted faerie wonderland, and paint a few pages for my upcoming book, ‘Wild Faerie Magick’.