Imbolc
Wintering: It’s something I’ve tried really hard to fall in love with; I’ve read Katherine May’s insightful book with the same name; I’ve channeled all the hygge and cosy vibes I can muster, but by the end of January, I’m just done! All my vitamin D reserves have been depleted and I’ve gone so deep into hibernation mode that I’ve all but forgotten how to have an IRL conversation with another human being.
The 1st February is Imbolc, the Celtic festival that celebrates the return of light and longer days. It is the mid-point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. For me, two things happen around this time: I realize that I am running out of time to get my Saville oranges and make marmalade, and I notice that the wild garlic is showing its first shoots above ground. Both of these things make me extraordinarily happy as they signal that the end of winter is just around the corner.
Filling my kitchen with the scent of oranges, as the two hour simmer needed to make Nancy Birtwhistle’s award winning marmalade steams up my windows and blocks out the grey, lets me pretend that winter isn’t still outside my door, and spooning amber coloured liquid into sterilised glass jars lets me dream of warmer days to come. Green shoots appearing above the leaf litter, signal that the wild garlic will soon be ready for foraging. It is a sure sign that winter is nearly over – the hunger gap can soon be closed and I will be outside a lot more than I am at the moment.
These past two weeks, in the forest school at Hatch, Amy and I have noticed that the woodland has had an expectant air about it. Leaf buds are swelling and some shrubs are even showing their first, tiny, lime green leaves of the year. Bird song is getting louder and when the sun is out, despite the bite of the winter wind, its warmth can be felt on our faces.
Imbolc, in my eyes at least, is the perfect New Year. A time when the seeds of winter dreams can start to take root and form in the real world. I’m not ready to be putting plans in to action yet, but I can feel that time drawing nearer.
Laura