As you can see from the above, I’m having camera encounters of the strange kind (Mercury is currently retrograde). Apart from the above unalterable towering tarts, said camera is buzzing like an angry wasp and the screen’s shimmying as if on psilicybin mushrooms! (My Pentax K1000 of decades still works a treat. Digital schmidgital)
So a belated wish to you for momentous joy on that extremely plashy, pluvial Full Moon in Leo last Friday 14th February. No doubt the lunar pull added to the heady tempest in the UK.
The date is adapted in many countries to commemorate the death of St Valentine circa 278 AD. Legend says that St Valentine’s Day evolved from the pagan Roman Lupercalia, a bit of a Love-In, which was fine but it went against the new Christian religion, so it had to be adjusted. Like Christmas, Easter and the rest.
In Love, whether you are more of the Petrarch’s pining for luscious Laura de Noves denomination (who wrote 366 sonnets longing for her);Vergin bella, che di sol vestita,
coronata di stelle, al sommo Sole
piacesti sí, che ‘n te Sua luce ascose,
amor mi spinge a dir di te parole:
or happily hitched or yet, as bawdy Byron’s dissolute Don Juan,Marriage from love, like vinegar from wine A sad, sour, sober beverage – by time
if you weren’t able to spend Valentine’s with your dream Schatzi/e, Beloved, Paramour, Amante, then it’s always heartening to: “Love the one you’re with” (Crosby/Stills) to spread a little love and appreciation to those present, dogs and plants included!
The plant world is my entheogen and has divinely made my Valentine’s weekend perfect. (Though, not cut-flowers or plants from shops and garden centres anymore which, sadly, are sprayed with lethal subtances such as the hazardous glyphosate “Roundup.” If you find an organic house-plant company in the UK, please let me know).
The plants we sought were the wild, edible variety which possess a vibrantly different energy and provide the crucial bitter element so lacking in our hybridised, fructosed fruits and vegetables.
After the hearty, tarty breakfast pictured above and under a heavenly, cerulean sky, the first Spring-like day of the year, we headed to Barnes Common and harvested: wild sheep’s sorrel, three-cornered leaks, red-top nettles, baby yarrow, wild chervil, dandelion cleavers and chickweed. We ate yellow gorse flowers and nibbled lime buds.
I felt earthed and also in spirit again: in tune with my own Nature and the Cosmos. How I long for the scent of linden and elder blossoms for their fragrant, healing teas and spellbinding beauty.
We sat with Elda Mor, the wise woman spirit of the elder tree (whose wood must never be burned); with the oak, yew, ash, holly – who only has spikes when younger to prevent being eaten! We learn so much about all the plants from feeling their vibration, listening to their messages – as well as from the enthusiasm and knowledge conveyed by Chris Hope of http://www.ipsophyto.com
Though, Milton’s Adam was not in the same blissful state as I always am in Nature!Eve speaks to Adam, Paradise Lost, John Milton 1608-1674
With thee conversing I forget all time,
All seasons, and their change,–all please alike.
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glist’ring with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful ev’ning mild; then silent night
With this her solemn bird and this fair moon,
And these the gems of heaven, her starry train:
But neither breath of morn when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun
On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glist’ring with dew, nor fragrance after showers,
Nor grateful ev’ning mild, nor silent night
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon
Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet.
Whichever unique and creative ways you celebrate your life, coupling, pairing or nexus – enjoy your feasting, singing, dancing and loving – and not just St Valentine’s Day, but every day and in each gloriously spontaneous moment!
Above all, nourish, nurture and adore YOURSELF!To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance. O Wilde.
This love radiates from all your well-loved and loving cells to others, reaching universes far, far away…..
Ti amo! Ti voglio molto bene.
Which forms, in fact, true love’s antithesis;
Romances paint at full length people’s wooings,
But only give a bust of marriages;
For no one cares for matrimonial cooings,
There’s nothing wrong in a connubial kiss:
Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch’s wife,
He would have written sonnets all his life? from Don Juan, Byron
The final note from a perfect union between two poets, Robert and Elizabeth, that did endure beautifully:How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! — and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Piscean