Bricolage Gardening

Beith

Layers and layers and layers – shedding – old vices - new beginnings – graceful 

A fountain of twigs shaped like a frozen waterfall.

 Purple hues drape the path through this birch tree muse.

Beith is the first tree in the cycle of the Celtic tree calendar and in folklore is connected to themes of birth, regeneration and guardianship. This cultural understanding of the trees symbolism has ecological reflections, as the birch is one of the native pioneer tree species that were the first to populate the British Ilse after the receding of glaciers 11,000 years ago. Pioneer species are the first organisms to begin occupying emerging ecological spaces. They require traits of resilience and ingenuity to survive in often hostile environments and are the organisms that begin to create conditions that allow for a wider array of species to prosper. The arrival of birch would have provided protection from wind, improved soil structure, released nutrients and hosted habitats in their roots, branches and leaves. They are the guardians of the new land! As discussed in a previous blog, this story provides another example of how folklore is often a great teacher about the biodiversity and ecology of an area, helping people to understand the world they are part of. In a way, the Birch is a piece of  the lands own origin story. 

Winding and winding i’m finding books unbinding,

 cliffs i am climbing, 

new wings i’m gliding.

So rot, ferment and decompose, so all the things can grow. The lyrics of Merlin Sheldrake  encapsulate the processes that this time of year calls forth, both external and internal. Out with the old in with the new, life in death and death in life. Keen to evoke the tradition of my recently understood celtic new year, Samhain (halloween), I take myself down to the nearby standing stones to attempt my own decomposing. So what shall i release and what do wish to manifest?

‘The wound is where the light enters you ’ Rumi

The significance of living spitting distance from the country’s second largest stone circle was never  apparent during my childhood. They were certainly well used by me and my brother; a fantastic climbing gym, a place to run around and even find some pocket money in the nooks that people had placed their coins in for good luck.

Stanton Drew was on the whole a quiet place to grow up, with the only exceptions to that rule being several points in the year when the strange folk seemed to arrive, with long hair and guitars, lighting fires and carrying an air of mystery. Back then these arrivals seemed to follow no pattern, but now I understand these gatherings to be for the solstice and equinox times. Two decades later, rather bizarrely,  I find myself in their shoes, not too sure exactly how I got here. 

The bright white eye that soothes and calms 

My first time engaging in a pagan ceremony in the stone circles was on the summer solstice a couple of years ago. Having had friends around to share food and conversation, we woke early the next morning to make our way down for sunrise. It was around four thirty AM and mist still clung heavily to the ground, with no reason to move on just yet.

Solo flight in attempt to find those lost from the branches you have fallen

As we closed in on the main circle, a few stones began to appear and then, the large group of strangers who had also arisen to join in this celestial celebration. We joined the circle of people that gathered within the stones and found ourselves looking in towards a man leading a druidic ceremony in a long white robe and nike trainers (emphasis on the NEO-paganism). The minutes and mist disappeared as we closed in on sunrise, accompanied by verses of gratitude to the land and cosmos. Gracefully, the sun emerged from behind the hills and the group rejoiced, finishing with a sing and dance whilst holding hands.

Where did i put that stream of conscience? 

The birch is considered to be aligned with the serpent, the creature that sheds its skin in order to grow. Layers and layers and layers, got to unpeal them all.  Down at the stones i sit down with a pad and pen to do some reflecting. What habits of old do i wish to shed, what ways of being do I wish to manifest.

Skin  feels like the appropriate medium for change, it is usually this time of year when my eczema returns, itching and soreness that leaves me feeling quite uncomfortable just to be. A response of the body that causes it to attack itself. And here I have something, for a lack of self-love is something I wish to let go of. Interestingly it is my boundary I wish to find, a small smirk as i write, some kind of lesson emerging here,  I  do not know my own boundaries, my ‘no’ and neither does my body? Both things in need of healing then, it is my boundary that i must then shed and gain. 

Our boundary, our ‘self’ is something we must be aware of and something that can be protected through ‘healthy aggression’ which is effectively our capacity to say ‘no’. As someone who has always avoided conflict, my ability to say no has alway been poor, so here I find something to manifest, my capacity to say no!

Before I leave the stone circles I march around their perimeter, feeling slightly mad, but keen to bring to life what I had written, as I walk I swing my arm, trying to shake off this past self, layers of guilt and shame, self-doubt and suffering, I step forward into something new, something lighter. As I finish, I sit against one of the stones and look up, across the sky a group of egrets carve their route through the inky grey sky.

Graceful is the word that is always first to arrive when I see a birch. Despite living by Greenbank cemetery for two years when I was in Bristol and spending plenty of time walking the various paths that weaved through and around the graves, I had never paid much attention to the birch. Having been recommended to return, I took myself back on a December morning and was in awe of the avenues and clusters of birch that I had walked past and under many times without any thought. This time I sat and observed, amazed by the abstract patterns that covered the trees. As I have found with each of the previous trees observed from the calendar, it is surprising what one begins to notice when present.

Feelings brought close to the surface by ecstasy. Feels more like its polarity. 

So delve into the unconscious to find this clarity I seek.

 Mouth dry, heart bleak, but its time to speak. 

Dreams drenched in dread, the place to start perhaps. 

Big fish in a small pond but still the answers slip through the holes in my net.

 Worn down by this wind on the heath. But life is very sweet brother. 

Skin thick like seal blubber, an unfortunate mix up has the cold kept within and the warmth that surrounds me at a safe and impenetrable distance.

 Still their golden hearts persist, every hug, smile and kiss helps me weaken the resistance. 

Time to stop watching from a distance. Beady eyes that read the cues and know the cards.

 Embrace the emotions that bubble to the surface, feelings and memories from the other world that lies within. Always with kindness, always with a gentle smile.