As my regular readers know, I have spent a lot of time thinking and writing about Bride and The Cailleach in Scotland. Over the years I have learned just how rich and varied the material we have about cailleachs is, but the more I read, the more I come to the conclusion that no folklorist has really made sense of things, and it isn't something that you can do justice to in a blog post, no matter how many citations you might include.

The modern Pagan practice of talking about "The Cailleach" as if she is one entity is prone to reduce her to a sort of archetype. (Archetypes aren't my favourite approach to spirituality and I consider them something of an insult to deity.) When I started looking at what both early and modern folklorists have to say about her, not to mention modern Pagan writers, I decided that attempting an overview would be a tangled mess I don't have the patience for. One that enough writers have either struggled with or glossed over. However, I have provided a plethora of links, both in the text and at the end, in case you want to explore further. 

If Celtic mythology is fragmented and confusing, folklore is even trickier. One reason it challenges us in these times is that by its nature folklore is more localised. People have always moved around, but the scale, frequency and distance are all increasing too fast for highly localised folklore to keep up. And cailleachs tend to belong to specific points in the landscape. Does that mean that cailleachs are an endangered species? I don't know. I don't think so, but I don't claim to understand their seeming resilience, and I am uncomfortable with the idea that human belief has the power to change the essence of the gods/not gods. All I can say is that perception of cailleachs/The Cailleach is certainly changing. Where a few centuries ago she was a character who was generally respected but dreaded, she seems to be moving inexorably toward something a little more benevolent. That's easy to believe, from the comfort of a 21st century lifestyle, where winter storms are no longer a threat to life or livelihood, but I think it's a long way from the truth.

My first encounter with The Cailleach was in folklore concerning The Island of Jura collected by Iain Og Ile (The folklorist John Francis Campbell of Islay). These, and the stories of The Cailleach washing her plaid in the Corryvreckin whirlpool off the coast of Jura were of special interest to me because I used to frequently visit Islay, which is very close to Jura, and from which one constantly sees The Paps of Jura. Then of course there were stories of The Cailleach and Bride, so elaborately told by D. A. Mackenzie, but very likely not an original piece of folklore in the form he published. Over time I came to know more folklore connecting cailleachs to deer, the weather, creation of the landscape, and so on. I came later to know about the Irish folklore of cailleachs, and it's fascinating, too.

Most people today first encounter cailleachs on the internet. A picture of a winter hag, a well or badly written blog post, and a general assumption that all cailleachs are just facets of The Cailleach. It is in the landscape that you will find her. Or Her. The one, the many. Perhaps that is cailleach nature - to be in many landscapes. To be there whether you recognise her or not.

So what of March 25th as Latha na Caillich (Day of the Cailleach)? This date has been important as The Feast of the Annunciation or Lady Day since at least medieval times, and was even used as the first day of the legal/taxation year for several centuries in England. It is an English "quarter day", but not a Scottish one. However, it is very close to the Vernal Equinox, no matter what religion or government you recognise, and this is generally a time of heavy spring storms in coastal Britain and Ireland. If the battle between winter and spring seems to begin in February, with a mixture of warmer days and harsh storms, the the final blow-out of the equinoctial gales of late March is the end. A few days after the actual date of the equinox usually sees more settled weather, and this is probably how Lady Day came to be Latha na Caillich.

You only have to read my poem Cailleach Rant to know that I feel great admiration and respect for her. And so I will honour her today, even though I'm not entirely sure that it is particularly traditional to do so. Like others, I have a tendency to conflate different cailleach stories and to honour a figure who was traditionally only feared. In Scotland, she has always been a personification of winter storms, and perhaps now that we have stupidly overheated our world we realise that we need her. I question, though, whether she has much interest in the desires of humanity. Before you paint her as a mother goddess, know this: She has always been a misanthrope. A guardian of deer and boar, of high, wild places, a fighter for wildness, a lover of stone and ice. We could use her on our side, indeed, but we would need to be on Hers, first.

Links
Some of these are also linked in the text above, but it seemed better to repeat them here.

Latha na Caillich A discussion of this day as a holiday from Brian Walsh

La na Caillich An in-depth look at the day from the excellent Tairis site, with many citations

Fools, Cuckoos, The Lady and The Devil - another discussion of La na Caillich, this time from Scott Richardson-Read, including citations

Cailleach folklore in John Francis Campbell's Popular Tales from the West Highlands, including the story of MacPhie and the Cailleach, set on Jura

Beira, Queen of Winter - D A Mackenzie's possibly fanciful telling of the story of Bride, Angus and The Cailleach

Bride and the Cailleach - a good exploration of their possible relationship, with many citations, at Tairis

The Cailleach, or Hag of Winter - a very interesting collection of cailleach stories from folklorist Stuart McHardy

Cailleach Beinn na Bric - translation of a Gaelic poem concerning the Cailleach, interesting for the concepts it contains.  You may need to scroll up one page for the introduction.

The Book of the Cailleach - this is a scholarly review of Gearóid Ó Crualaoich's book of the same name by folklorist John Shaw. Included because it provides an interesting discussion on Cailleach folklore in Ireland

The Witch of Jura - a brief telling of the MacPhie legend

Coming of the Cailleach in the British Isles - a mixed bag of information from Rachel Patterson

In honour of the Autumn Equinox, my partner, Mark, and I took a trip to Manitou Springs. We have been there a few times, but typical of people who are (sort of) local, we hadn't given the place much thought. It's a small mountain resort with nice boutiques and a good vibe, a fun change from our daily lives. It was only toward the end of our last trip that I noticed the Cheyenne Spring font on the main street, tasted the water, and all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place in my head. "Oh, Manitou Springs!" So we decided to dedicate our next visit to finding and investigating the springs -- and bringing jars.

Although I remembered to take the jars, I forgot my camera, so the gallery of photos below are not mine. They are from other people's blogs and articles, or from the website of the local Mineral Springs Foundation, who produce a free brochure, including photos, a map, and an analysis of the mineral content or each spring. They have done good work in renovating and decorating many of the springs around the town, inviting a number of artists and sculptors to design fonts. The result is a great deal of variation in the ambiance of the different springs.

Back home in Scotland the "places of interest" seem to be so thick on the ground that you are tripping over them. Lots of wells and springs, ancient monuments and places of natural beauty. To me, it feels very easy to find places that help me to feel close to the gods, to the spirits of nature or people of the past. Yes, the trees and rocks and soil are sacred everywhere, but I feel less resonance here. I hoped that these springs might be a good place to feel something like that, but I'm not sure.

The town of Manitou happened to be rather busy when we visited, with some sort of festival going on. There was a very friendly and slightly crowded atmosphere, which I enjoyed, but it wasn't conducive to quiet moments of spirituality. At each spring we visited we ended up chatting to people. A few were locals, getting water from their favourite spring, and happy to tell us about its benefits. Most were other people "doing the tour", but hardly anyone liked the taste of the water. Except me. I thought some of it was excellent. Each spring varies quite a bit in its mineral make up, but most of them are naturally carbonated, and have a high mineral content, which I enjoyed. One or two would take some getting used to. Iron Spring, for example is rather salty tasting and with its high iron content, reminded me of the taste of blood. I particularly liked the taste of the water from Wheeler Spring, which was fizzy and refreshing, and has a more traditional style of font, too.

It must be the Druid in me, but I found people's jokes and face pulling about the taste of the water a bit frustrating. I find the stuff that comes out of many a household tap completely disgusting. I don't like many mainstream commercial beverages, either. What the earth was offering, via these springs, tasted so much better to me, but people seem to me to have lost their discernment. Too much soda-pop and Miller Lite, I guess. Visiting the springs was just a box to tick, and a funny story about how bad it tasted to be told later.

I haven't delved too deeply into the history of Manitou Springs. Manitou means "spirit" in the Algonquin languages. Spirit both in the sense of what we might call gods and of the spirits that inhabit all things in the animistic sense. Several local plains tribes, such as the Cheyenne and Arapahoe peoples, held the area as particularly sacred and knew that the waters had healing powers. Because of the high mineral content of the water, some of the springs had formed natural mineral basins which were ideal for bathing. When European explorers found the area they quickly began to develop it as a spa, with great emphasis put on its healing potential and romantic associations with the local tribes. These settlers, too, valued the water, and the beauty of the area, but had rather different ideas about what was sacred.

Over the course of the 20th century the "spa" concept gradually gave way to a more general type of commercial tourism. The area has many tourist attractions, including Pikes Peak and the Garden of the Gods, and the springs at Manitou became a minor sideline which I don't even remember hearing mentioned. Manitou Springs became known for its enormous amusement arcade, cog railway and vast selection of motels.

Looking at the photos of Soda Spring, below, in 1870 and the present, I know which I prefer. However, I'm glad that perhaps something of the dignity and original reverence for the springs has been revived by the Mineral Springs Foundation. Water in Colorado is rarely a source of peace. It is generally seen as a scarce commodity, bought and sold for unsustainable agriculture, use by growing cities and for sporting and recreation. The saying "Whisky's for drinking, water's for fighting" refers to the legal wrangling that is almost always ongoing over water, somewhere in the state. Yet holy wells and holy water have gone unnoticed...

Because the town was built around the springs, most of them are along the main street or along major traffic arteries. The atmosphere when we visited this time, while pleasant, wasn't great for, say, a few moments of meditation. I would like to go back on a weekday in the off season, and see how it is then.

If you enjoyed this article, you might also like The Divine Connection of Water and Mother Nepesta.

These photos can all be clicked to enlarge, and the captions link to their original sources, which are often quite interesting in themselves.

This morning the alarm woke me before sunrise -- and I actually got up! Maybe I was energised by a trip to a group of sacred springs yesterday. The moon is just a few days past full, and was silver, high in the sky. I went to my grove of trees. I took with me some sage, incense, homemade bread, water I collected from a spring yesterday, a candle, and a copy of this poem - which I wrote a few days ago. As I crossed the pasture, the horses came to say hello.

I felt happy. Summer is not my favourite season and I'm looking forward to the cooler weather ahead. In my mind, the moon, still visible as I walked, although it was now light, represented the coming longer nights, while the sun, not yet quite up, represented the summer we are leaving behind. The pastures, and the wider landscape are a mixture of green and gold.  We have been in drought for several years, but it broke in July and has rained quite a bit. July and August are the most common months for rain here, which means that autumn often sees a growth of green grasses and forbs among the already mature and dried-off stands of grass. Maybe that was in my mind as I wrote the poem below. I was really longing for the broad leaf forests of Britain when I wrote it.

My little grove of cottonwood trees are very dear to me. They are huge and gnarled, and there is a lateral irrigation ditch running beside them. My boundary fence, the grove and the ditch are all oriented east-west, with the trees between the ditch and the fence. They actually straddle the property line between my neighbour's land and mine. It makes the space feel all the more liminal...

You can read more of my poetry in my latest collection.

Sometimes, it's wise to question whether swimming against the tide is worth it. I'm beginning to think that "the Mabon thing" may be one of those instances. The Autumnal Equinox is nearly here, and my social media world has been filled with references to the day as "Mabon" for several weeks. Many people new to Paganism, and some who are not so new, simply accept that name without thinking. If I were to enter a new culture, I probably wouldn't question the names of the holidays, either. I'd assume that these names had been in use for centuries. However, the fact is that "the Mabon thing" has no venerable history - the practice was begun by Wiccan author Aiden A. Kelly in the 1970s. Anyway, why should we care? Wiccans and Neo-Pagans are forging new territory, right? Surely we can call our holidays by new names.

The main story of Mabon doesn't give us a great deal to go on in understanding who or what he really is as a deity or personality. A couple of other Welsh tales have similar stories of the abduction of divine babes, most notably the story of Rhiannon and Pryderi. An interesting discussion of these tales and what they might mean can be found in the excellent Mabon ap Modron The story of the Divine Son.  Another worthwhile link, discussing various early literary mentions of Mabon is Mabon ap Modron "Divine Son son of Divine Mother".

Finally, my thanks to Brian Walsh for his excellent article Mabon - A God of Spring Misplaced.

Have a good one! Whatever you call it!

This little essay concerning the existence of the goddess Eostre, or Ostara, appeared in my Facebook feed this week. (I hope the link works - you probably need to be signed in to Facebook.) It mostly references the Wikipedia entry on Eostre, and I feel the case is believable. I have not paid much attention to this question until now -- I'm afraid I probably saw one or two "there's no evidence" type comments in the past and dismissed Eostre as fantasy, and was happy enough just celebrating the Vernal Equinox for what it is from the basis of nature and astronomy.

I have noticed in myself, and some Pagan friends, a need to fill our calendars with deities, especially at the eight major points in the wheel of the year. Like debutantes of yesteryear, filling their dance cards, we want to make sure that there is no ambiguity as to Who will partner us at these important festivals. So, I noticed that it was with some relief that I penciled Eostre in for March 20th - even though we haven't been properly introduced. I will be open to her energy, and curious to know her. I had a nice little daydream of Bride taking her by the hand and leading her into my ritual space, as if to say "There is room for you here." At the time I wasn't thinking about this in terms of Bride having reigned over Imbolc, and handing things over to Eostre now, and I'm not saying that this is what is happening, although it's an interesting angle to consider. I was simply seeing Bride as one of my "household Gods", welcoming a Being rather similar to Herself into our space.

If I had to describe my "pantheon" or "hearth culture" I suppose I would define it as "British Isles" rather than "Celtic" anyway, so I have no problem with a goddess who was widely worshiped in Northumbria and other parts of England. I'm simply glad to meet her, and interested to see where things go between us in the future.

The Pre-contact Post-contact Skirmish by Julie Buffalohead, 2012

I am often frustrated by the difference in climate and biology between my current home in SE Colorado, and my long-time home in Scotland. There are no wild flowers to pick here in March -- particularly this year with the continuing terrible drought. No hedgerows full of health-giving herbs, no spring rain to speak of -- even wildlife seems to have retreated to the strip along the river a few miles away. Jackrabbits, though, are still in evidence. They were one of the first animals to greet me when I moved onto this farm a few years back, and I often see them -- thanks mostly to my companion, Molly the Collie, who flushes them out and chases them, but has never come close to catching one.

In case you didn't realise, a jackrabbit is member of the hare family. In fact, they don't look much different than European brown hares. I have to remind myself to call them jackrabbits -- a name that I'm told was popularised by Mark Twain. The story goes that folk were beginning to call them "jackass rabbits" due to their spectacularly long mule-like ears, and Twain picked this up and spread it around. I've long been aware of the hare's association with spring and fertility, with their madcap romps, and that somehow they were associated with eggs. Not surprisingly, they are also closely associated with Eostre.

I'm very glad to have hares here, and to make the connection through this goddess to the land around me, and especially for that to be a connection which vibrates to my old sense of the land in Scotland, too. I have been asking the spirits of nature here to speak to me, as I feel quite disconnected from it. Perhaps this is a step in that direction.

I'll leave you with this video. It's a thirty minute BBC wildlife documentary from the 1990s, all about both the natural history of hares and their mythological and spiritual associations. Hare coursing (chasing hares with greyhounds or lurchers) was long a popular country pursuit in Britain, and it is discussed in this programme, however, there are no bloody scenes or anything, so don't worry. Hare coursing has been illegal in Britain since 2005, quite some time after this film was made. I'm sure you will enjoy this video - it even has great music!

Further reading:
The Symbolism of Rabbits and Hares by Terri Windling  I really enjoyed this well written piece, which includes many beautiful images!
Eostre's Egg by Maria Ede-Weaving. A look at the symbolism of this holiday from a more personal and psychological perspective.

I am learning what works for me, and it isn't just one "miracle thing". I am highly suspicious of anyone who says that their "miracle thing" will fix me once and for all. What the years have taught me is an assortment of things that work for me. Depending on how things are going, my  personal list of helpers includes Bach Remedies, aromatherapy, EFT, and the occasional dash of Release Technique/Sedona Method. None of these things are really core practices for me, although they might be for some people. My core practices are meditation, prayer, and also things like good nutrition, exercise and contact with nature. Sometimes it's easy to keep some of these up, and sometimes it's easy to keep them all up -- and occasionally it's hard to even get out of bed in the morning.

I've written a couple of times, recently, about my involvement with the new Solitary Druid Fellowship project. (See Life on and Island and Sacred Stewardship) and how finding more rhythm to my practice is proving helpful to me. Earlier, in Accepting the Salmon's Gift, I also described the process of creating ways to encourage myself to do things like say a prayer or meditate more regularly. Sometimes, I need inspiration to do these things, and so creating a beautiful image or poetic words helps draw me toward the thing I need. At other times, the issue is simply that I need a reminder, or I forget all about my good intentions. I need something on the wall, on my desk, my fridge door, by my bed, etc. to remind me. If it is also beautiful, then my inspiration is there, too. Over time, habits develop, and these short moments that punctuate my day are becoming second nature, and giving me more rhythm and balance.

There are now six guided meditation cards, and four prayer cards in the webshop, which I have created to help others in their search for daily rhythm and inner balance. I have grouped them in various ways that I hope will be appealing, or you can buy them singly in any combination you wish. I know that some people only want the meditation cards, so you can buy them in separate set, and now I also offer the four prayer cards as a set, for those of you who would like to explore their use.

There are two "Shamanic" prayers which someone gave to me. I have adapted them, and have found them so helpful that I use them daily. (I wrote more about them here.) The other two prayers are taken from the Scots Gaelic collection known as the Carmina Gadelica. One is an eventing prayer for protection of the household, the other a charm for the protection of horses, which I adapted slightly from a cattle blessing. You could alter it to suit your own animals if you wish.

Well, that's enough from me for today. Have a great equinox, everybody! <3 Kris