My husband recently taught me something new...
The acorns are thick this year. They are littered everywhere, reaching even beyond the branches of the oaks, carried by birds and winds and squirrels, stuffed into the trunks of trees and poking out of the ground, stashed as winter supplies for the critters.
My husband recently shared with me that folklore around such an abundant harvest of these nuts, suggests a rough winter ahead. The idea being that these acorns are shed to support the wildlife through the coldest darkest time of the year.
Science suggests that it is actually the conditions of the growing season that is ending that decides on the bounty from the oak.
Instead of the future being told by this marker, it is the story of the past that is littered about under these trees.
This seems fitting for this time of year. As we move closer to the final harvest I find myself in a state of reflection. This time of year as the veil between worlds thins, it is to the past where my mind wanders, and I find myself remembering.
It was 20 years ago that I found myself at a public Samhain ritual for the first time and had a deeply profound trance that anchored me on my spiritual path.
As Samhain approaches, my ancestor altar gets more abundant with photos and flowers and acorns too. And my memories create a lovely landscape of those I have loved who have made their way to whatever lies after this life in the next. I remember too the loss and challenges of the last 19 months and take pause to acknowledge and all that we as a collective have shared.
Are the acorns dropping where you are?
What storiees do you find in their harvest?
What rituals of remembrance are unfolding for you?
The leaves rattle in the wind... Fierce and loud, then slower and quiet until they find stillness for a heartbeat or a breath, only to awaken again. The air blowing past my face is fresh and cool. My hair dancing among the breezes, curling and tangling. The scent of dry sweet grasses fills my body with knowing.