Ceremony > Imbolc

Imbolc is a Celtic festival day, a fire day. It is half-way between the Winter Solstice and the Vernal Equinox — a cross quarter day. In an agricultural sense it is the time of lambing, udders swelling, sweet fresh milk, and adorable little lambs. It is the time when the winter wheat begins to green up again, the woods begin to stir with critters coming out to check the weather, and I find myself anxious and eager to get outdoors among them all.

Imbolc is the time when seeds come out of storage, clay pots get washed, filled with rich soil, and tiny seeds get tucked into the pots. They’ll live with a heating pad under them and a plastic dome over them until they find themselves strong enough to live in sunny windowsills.

Imbolc is a time of growing light, and so I celebrate by lighting candles to help call forth the brightness. It is a time to evaluate the woodpile. Will it make 6 more weeks? Likely not, but we’ll have a celebratory fire anyway.

Imbolc is one of those seasons when the Phos Hilaron seems to joyfully leap from my lips each evening and I mean the words with all my being.