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That morning, we divided into Toughs and Prettys.

(Such things happen at pagan festivals.)

I wanted to be a Tough; I figured I'd earned it. Little sissy boys don't grow up to be happy, sane adults, after all, if they aren't the toughest of the tough.

(I have to imagine that, in the current cultural environment, I would now be experiencing all manner of social pressure to Transition. Gods help me, it would have been the ruin of me.)

Boss Witch had other ideas, though.

Grains are goldening, apples and other fruits are ripening, and beehives are thick with honey. The harvest season has come and is rapidly maturing. While Lammas and Lughnasadh have passed in the UK and Ireland, other harvest holidays are still just beginning. Each festival celebrates the culmination of hard work and good luck, and marks the turning of the year, the slow fade of summer into fall, and the gratitude that people still feel for the benevolence of their lands.

Grains, Apples, and Honey

Many people have been readying for Lammas this past week. My Instagram feed has been full of beautiful loaves of bread in all shapes and sizes, filled with herbs or sprinkled with oats and other grains. I’ve made my own loaves of bread in preparation and am planning for other elements of the holiday: an outdoor fire in our fire bowl, homemade kvas, some soup or stew to sop up with the homemade bread, a fresh salad, some outdoor games with the kids, maybe a walk in the woods.

I love this holiday that is essentially a celebration of bread. Bread is a sacred and ancient food, one so common and humble that we often take it for granted. But no one can deny the wholesome, enriching influence of homemade bread: the feeling of connecting with old ways as we get messy with flour and meditatively knead the dough; the rich, savory perfume emanating from the oven as it bakes; the softness of the inside and the hard crust of the loaves eaten plain, with cheese, or slathered with butter or jam. It is a gift to make bread -- to ourselves, our loved ones, and our homes. It’s no wonder that the Matres and Matronae, ancestral mother-goddesses worshipped by Celtic and Germanic tribes across northwestern Europe and whom I worship and honor, were depicted in iconography with grains or loaves of bread, along with fruits, babies, and dogs. Bread is a staple in many meals, a magical food born from grains carefully grown from the earth, at first green and then gold, milled and baked, wholesome and hearty.

At noon on the first day of the festival, we blew the horns. Then we pulled the young Corn King in his chariot through the grove in which the gathering was held.

By the next day, word had begun to spread. A few came out to watch the Corn King in his noon progress among his people.

The third day, there were more. Some would bow, or kneel by the side of the way to receive his blessing as he passed. These he would shower with kernels of corn.

As the week went on, people began to join the procession. They brought their children to receive the Harvest Lord's blessing. Late arrivals to the festival heard about the processions by word of mouth.

People had known the Young Lord since his boyhood, during the festival's earliest years. They had watched him grow up there, year by year. Now they welcomed his triumph. Grown to beautiful, golden manhood, he was everyone's son, everyone's beloved.

In today's Watery Wednesday community news, we've got a new Asatru temple in Iceland; Heathens recognized by the U.S. military; Pagans in Costa Rica?; John Becket on social costs of being Pagan; a new location for the Sacred Harvest festival.

It's about time: the first Heathen temple built in Iceland in a millennium is coming soon.

The United States Army has finally added Ásatrú and Heathen as options in its religious preference list.The Norse Mythology blog covers the story.