But I do think that there is something of the energy of that time which remains in the natural world. And that may be why the dreams and visions that tied me to that past seem valid in a way that clocks and calendars do not. And so, for me, the old holiday, Imboc, isn't history. It is a place on the wheel of the year and the turning cycle dark and light and every place on that wheel has meaning.
Outside my office window, here in Northeast PA, the snow fell all through the night and into the morning. The sky above the mountains is a light silvery gray and if the sun is lost behind the pale clouds. But I know that it is there somewhere and I know it's returning because of this marker, this holiday, this space in time.
Imbolc is the traditional feast of the Celt goddess Brighid. A goddess of both fire and water who is revered as a Catholic saint. As a goddess, she represented creativity, fertility, healing and light. In the role of the light-bringer she reminds us that this circle will continue to turn.
This Imbolc I will shovel new snow and water the Moon Flowers I planted on Alban Arthan and light a candle for Brighid and the return of the light.
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