Harvest what you sow

It's harvest time. The festival of Lammas is coming this weekend, on 1st August. People who celebrate this old tradition will be giving thanks for their crops, whether physical or not. There will be circles around an array of foods, enjoying their full flavour and the accomplishment of growing them. It's a joyous occasion.

And yet, I can't let go of the feeling that something is not right. The crops, while sweet as a sugar cube, are tiny and devoid of water. My garden is devoid of water. My dogs and my chickens (the last hen and her husband), are walking around only at night and early morning, tongues out (dogs), wings open (chickens). Everything and everybody is parched, hot, and bothered.

'Yay! We are hotter than Barbados!', I heard people celebrating a week ago. 'It just feels like holiday,' my friend said yesterday. But wildfires in Europe are telling a different story. It's not holiday. It's climate out of balance. It's the Earth having a go at healing herself by washing off, shaking off, or burning off what ails her. Our treatment of her. The lack of respect for the abundance she offers. Extractive practices all over the world. The chasing of profits for the top few.

I am noticing the spread of Environmental Grief counselling groups. Perhaps they have always been there, but I doubt it. More and more of us are noticing that our comfortable way of living is sowing some toxic seeds. So we try to do our little bit.

We reuse, we harvest rain water for our crops, we grow a kitchen garden and herbs, we put up bird boxes, bat boxes, we allow parts of our gardens and even pots to go wild, so that the insects can move in. We compost, we send any cooked leftovers to be made into heat energy, we switch off the outside lights off and draw curtains at night, to stop confusing the moths and other wildlife. We collect rubbish left behind by our less concerned 'Joe Public'.

I will be holding a Lammas circle on Sunday in our garden. There won't be fire in the middle this time. There will be the tiny ripe plums from my tree, small flowers from the garden, and some sage from the herb plot. I feel, that like this blog today, the circle will be a bit sad and moody.

I would apologise for that but I don't feel that would be right.

This blog was written entirely without AI - to save water needed to cool down the giant data centres.