Dreams of the Great Bear.

Here in the deep quiet of Winter, even with Spring stirring beneath, the quiet of Spirit is there to comfort and warm. Within, a place to center, to balance, to contemplate the connection of Spirit with all other things. In my case, with Deity. Some of Them are closer to me in Winter, some further away. Not disconnected, never that, yet a quiet sort of companionship. It is one of the reasons I find Winter so illuminating.

My work, as it always does, veers toward the Veil and the Otherworld this time of year. I admit increasingly so in other seasons as time passes. Even when I sit and write as I strike my harp in harmony with the words, it has at the least echoes of these things. Partly it is age, partly the time of year. Partly where I am on my own Path.

One reason I love the Stone Circle is the presence of the Ancestors at the North Stone. Even if they do not speak to me, their mere presence is comforting and at times brings forth a burst of illumination that assists me in solving a problem that has vexed me for a bit.

As the weather warms I will bring flute, drum, and eventually harp, to the Circle. I will sing to the Ancestors, tell them stories, and to the Stones as well.

Here in Abbatia Ursa Magnus, all is turned inward. Study, meditation, recording, making, these activities dominate. Even so the voices of the harps, flutes, and drums, regularly resound through the rooms and halls.

Abbatia Ursa Magnus, Abbey of the Great Bear. Ursa Major, the constellation. The Great Bear of the North. My own totem and guide.

Seven Stars Grove...the Pleiades, the Seven Sisters. Constellations of note and wonder.

Caer Arthes. Fort Bear. Refuge of my Folk.

Names can change, these are unlikely to do so. They come from my wanderings in the Otherworld. From the Isle of Apples and other places.

Voices from the Stones. Echoes of the Ancestors.

Dreams of the Great Bear.

Telyndryw Sian /|\

Things...

The calendar year has turned, the holidays have passed. We face the strengthening sun with delight and anticipation. Imbolc is not far off.

"He came from the shattered people, of a nation so riven few could understand what to do or how to do it. From that sea of great division and hatred, from ignorance and superstition he arose; a manipulator of people, uncaring in his drive for personal glory and vindication. So very insecure in himself, hiding it through bluster and pomposity. Persecuting those who he pledged to defend, slandering those who annoyed him in some way. Truth was an alien concept, yet he spoke of it often. Facts were unknown to him, yet he declared them constantly. A leader without the ability to lead, a leader with no experience in leadership. A person who lauded his accomplishments...whitewash over the truth of failed endeavor and privilege. A supposed champion of the poor and downtrodden, in reality a despot that looted those same people ruthlessly and without mercy. Hateful thing wearing the semblance of a human being. A small, insecure, whimpering, broken thing. From him, destruction, more hate, more division. From him, the loss of precious freedoms and unity. A gift from people secure in their willfully held ignorance. A toxic gift, which too many received."

Change is the only constant. First one way, then another.

Telyndryw Sian /|\
Caer Arthes
Nova Britannia