PaganSquare is a community blog space where Pagans can discuss topics relevant to the life and spiritual practice of all Pagans.
Hey Anita, it's Steven.
I can't remember whether or not there's reception down where you guys are camped. I know that Iacchus has a signal up top at the Big House, so presumably you'll get this sooner or later.
As you'll recall, my original plan was to get to the festival tomorrow—Wednesday—but I'm afraid there have been a few, ah, developments around here.
In fact, you're not going to believe this, but at the moment my house is surrounded by a mob of irate villagers, complete with pitchforks and torches.
Seriously, I am not making this up. You may even be able to hear them in the background. [Muffled shouting.] Like you say, life imitating art.
Gods, with all the kids around here, you'd think they could spare one or two every now and then. I mean, a guy's got to eat, right?
Around 1261, the troubadour Rutebeuf (“Roast Beef”) published an early French miracle play, Le Miracle de Théophile.
Little did he know that he was about to make Wiccan history.
Based on 11th century Christian legend, the play tells the story of Theophilus (“god-lover”) of Adana, who sells his soul to the Devil. The Devil is called up, by a sorcerer named Salatin, with a mysterious chant:
Title: Romancing the Null (The Outlier Prophecies Book One)...
Last week I attended an opening at a local art gallery.
Someone was handing out zucchini.
No, it wasn't some abstruse performance piece. What it meant was: it's July in Minnesota.
Oh gods, it's that time of year again. Overabundance, thy name is zucchini.
Well, it's almost here: the time of year that they named the Summerland for.
The apples ripe and fragrant on the branches, and overhead in the trees, that unmistakable, piercing, electric drone.
Welcome to the Season of the Cicada.
Around here they say that the cicadas call only when it's 80° or warmer: clothing-optional weather. To judge from my own experience, this may well be true.
The name comes from the Romans, by way of the French. Before that, say the etymologists, it was a “Mediterranean” word. Who knows? It may even be Minoan.
Because cicadas, like snakes, shed their skins as they grow, and because their nymphs incubate in the earth and pop forth whole and all, they're associated in the Received Tradition with rebirth and immortality. Fittingly do they sing to the dead in the orchards of that Other World.