At Midsummer

I love this time of year - the long days, the blue skies, the sunny weather. (Apologies to any readers who are suffering under less clement circumstances!). Today is Midsummer Day, and the photo below is of St John's Wort in a neighbour's garden, a true representative of the season.

Perhaps it is difficult for us to truly understand how important this time of year was to our ancient ancestors, living as we do in a world in which (if we have the money) we can buy any vegetable, any fruit throughout the year. As Unitarian author Cliff Reed, wrote, “We live too far apart from the turning seasons, / the earth’s rhythm and nature’s lessons. / We forget our dependence on the plenty / that we take for granted – few of us plant the seeds, / watch growth and ripening, reap the harvest.” 

But in those times, the ancients celebrated the time of the triumph of the light with great bonfires, when the whole community would gather on the hilltops to celebrate life through feasting, dance, ritual and song, rejoicing in the sun at the height of its power. And perhaps also to pray that it would not decline too soon, because a poor summer meant a poor harvest, which in turn could lead to starvation in the long cold winter months. And yet, the urge to celebrate the middle of summer still lingers. 

When I was a small child at primary school, we learned that beautiful Middle English round, Sumer is icumen in. Walking through the woods this morning, I found myself singing the first few lines: 

“Sumer is icumen in 

Lhude sing cuccu 

Groweth seed and bloweth mead 

and spring the woods anew. 

Sing cuccu!

Ewe now bleateth after lamb 

Loweth after calf the cu.” 

Because it summed up how I was feeling. For the past few days, I have been entranced by the sound of a cuckoo in Salcey Forest. I walk in there most mornings of the year. We are so very blessed to live where we do, five minutes' walk from the edge of the Forest. At the time I went out – at seven in the morning – I had the place pretty much to myself, apart from the birds, who were filling the air with their song, and I was filled with wonder at the beauties of God's creation. The cow parsley still lines the path, its heady scent filling my nostrils, and there are dandelions and buttercups, pink and white clover, cow parsley, elderflower, and many waving grasses, as well as the ubiquitous nettles. Also some gorgeous pink and white wild roses. And of course, the trees themselves. Too many shades of green to name. Glory, glory, glory!

#feelingblessed