Book of Eucalypt

It has now been one Sabbat-to-Sabbat that I have been fortunate enough to call this quarter-acre block home. I received the keys just after the Summer Solstice in December, and now it feels like Lughnasadh. It feels it so much that I woke one morning and put on an Imbolc playlist on the way to work because it actually felt like Imbolc…but didn’t. I am going to blame my Northern Hemispheric ancestors for that one.

Lughnasadh is one of those Sabbats that really doesn’t work with my particular part of Australia. As a celebration of the first harvest, we sing songs from the North about John Barleycorn, and light bonfires and celebrate the late summer.

In her book, Australian Druidry, Julie Brett writes about how there are two cycles within Australia that work in conjunction with each other. It’s about maintaining the balance of both light and dark aspects within the seasons and within the seasonal change.

Instead of bonfires, we have had bush fires in parts of the country. The Harvest in my region finishes in December as Summer here doesn’t really start until the New Year, and then we have had a major heatwave and now Stage 2 Water Restrictions.

So what do you do to celebrate when the land really isn’t in the mood to what an introduced Sabbat traditionally holds?

I have celebrated new skills aquired through binge-watching Gardening Australia so I can be ready for the cooler months. I have been weeding the garden and then weeding some more, and telling the ridiculous number of rose bushes that they will finally be tended to once the weather is cooled (nine was counted in one section, so it’s probably closer to 30 or so on the property).

Tubs and boxes have been moved between room to room, shed to house and back again, in the very slow progress of making this feel like home. Understanding what works where is half the battle, in between back-to-back days of around 46C/112F and you feel as though you are allowed to function.

I have made promises to the spirits of this land that I now reside on that I will do my best to bring the garden back to life, to introduce plants that represent me and those who will dwell within this property and to ensure that the animals here will always have water and shade. I have rededicated myself to my path, to my Gods, and to better understanding my Ancestors and what is to become expected of me.

I have celebrated the harvest within my own life – the hard work and vigelance of pestering and pestering to ensure this move was possible, that all parties associated with the move were safe, and that we could all return to our respective homes safely.

And with the physical harvest by the farmers long since completed, and the internal harvest of my own reflection underway, I can now attempt to rest in preparation for the new adventures to come.

Oh, I’ve harvested cherry tomatoes that was a surprise find amongst the roses. And I wrote a book – that’s out in May – and I am so proud of it but I’ve also forgotten what I’ve written…