Well we have finally reached December 2020. Midwinter is almost here when the seasons turn again. What a year it’s been and I’m not going over it again because everyone will remember their own story.
I believe that this time of year is a very magical time when the old traditions rule. Christmas Eve has a magic that sweeps into everyone’s houses leaving sparkling webs of what Midwinter really meant to Neolithic people all the way through to how we are today.
We are human and we are part of this planet and we need to be reminded of this. At this time of year I believe the planet speaks to us gathering all her children to her.
Perhaps I’m a dreamer but where did this way of thinking come from? As the old saying goes “there is no smoke without fire”.
So for your pleasure ladies, gentlemen and any penguins listening in, here is a tune and video which reminds of the magic of midwinter.
I read Clan of The Cave Bear by Jean M Auel when I was just a teenager. I adore her books but one thing stood out to me. The Neanderthals had ancestor memories. When I read that it was as if a bolt of lighting shot through me. It resonated with me and was my own truth.
I believe that we all have our ancestors memories inside us and that we are born with them. Perhaps this is the reason for my thinking of this time of year is an older celebration than anyone might say so today.
So, where ever you come from, are staying or visiting seasons blessings on you all.
A little present for you all. The beginning of a new short story collection which follows the Vikings to Orkney.
I hope you enjoy.
By Adele Marie Park
We wait at the edge of the forest. The sky above us is grey. It is the changing time between day and night, light and dark when nightmares streak across your vision. Taunting and shaking their monstrous fists before blending in with the twilight. This is their moment, a reminder for us that we are not the first to occupy this land. According to Ragnild our powerful shaman, we will not be the last. Our people will fade and join the monsters slipping into dreams and reminding those who come after us that life is fleeting but the land is forever.
A sudden rustle of leaves in front of me, above me, all around me. The loathsome, deep throated growl buries deep inside my stomach, but I stand tall, even if my grip on the spear is knuckle white.
Five of us to guard the sleeping settlement until dawn’s waking yawn brings safety.
I am Astri, handmaiden of Odin I will not run.
My stomach grumbles muscles spasm forcing me to swallow. We have not eaten and the sacred drink which allows us to see the monsters sits heavy as a stone in my gut.
The sound of snapping branches followed by guttural barks brings goosebumps to my skin. Arms and legs tremble but I force myself to stand feet apart ready for battle. My shield in front of me, spear now held in attack mode.
Through the slits in my wooden mask I watch as the first giant breaks free of the trees. He stands as tall as a sacred birch tree then forcing his arms wide, he growls at us.
Noises are all around us now. Too many. There have never been so many before. Why?
There is no time to pause as the giant rushes towards me.
Fear and adrenaline surge upwards from the pit of my stomach and I scream at him causing my wooden mask to shake. Painted to resemble the dire wolves which roam our lands its movement appears to make the giant waver.
I take advantage of this and run towards him. As I jump a scream of rage comes from me and the process of change begins.
Muscles shift, blood boils, fingers become claws which rip across the giant’s face. His blood spatters the green leaves but I cannot hesitate. My spear falls as I leap onto him and fasten my teeth over his neck where the life blood flows.
He bellows and tries to throw me off, but ancient spells run through my blood and in this moment, I am stronger than he is. I am Odin’s daughter now, kin to the dire wolf and I fear nothing!