Ancient Calendar More Accurate Than Ever—Harvest Lammastide—When Nature and Heavens Sparkle & Entice

ANCIENT CALENDAR MORE ACCURATE THAN EVER—BACK-TO-THE-LAND ETHOS—MOTHER EARTH GUIDES US HOOMAN (Insecure) WRITERS, ARTIST-CREATORS, MUSICIANS, COPS, HOSPITAL & CONSTRUCTION WORKERS & esp. FARMERS

FIRST WEDNESDAY BLOGMOBILE ROLLCALL from COSMOS for WRITERS to EXIT LAVATUBE HIDEAWAY & GREET ANCIENT LUGHNASADH/LAMMAS & HER PERSEID METEOR SHOWER SHOOTING STAR PARADE

SIRIUS Summer Dog Days Predict H₂O, PERSEID & η-AQUARID Meteors💥

There is pleasure in the pathless woods, there is rapture in the lonely shore, there is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea, and music in its roar; I love not Man the less, but Nature more

George Gordon of Gight, Lord Byron, died 1824 aged 36

Castle of Gight-on-Ythan original separate Gordon stronghold, part of adjoining Haddo Estate holds festive children events with blessing of Lord & Lady Haddo

August has traditionally had pride of place in European culture. Normally frozen like Juneau, AK at same latitude 58ºN, this year northerners join Mediterranean nations basking in unaccustomed warmth of Gulf Stream marvels carried relentlessly from Florida and Bermuda to reach beyond Iceland, Faroes, the Baltic, to Archangel & Nordkapp.

Sunspots Kindle Britain/Europe’s Hottest-Ever Temperatures, Pacific El Niño

An unusually large CME—coronal mass ejection—caused when a large sunspot curves round to face Earth during solar maximum—featured first week August in Washington State’s far NorthWest territory bordering Canadian Vancouver Island’s whale migration route—folk memory or consciousness trigger?

Mud Lake, WA rt., unusual Aurora latitude 47ºN—same as St.Michael’s Glastonbury tor, Newport, Bath, Somerset, Glamorgan & Roman market town Caer Gwent Chepstow, S.Wales—all with music festival Severn-estuary-related connection2 subterranean faultline hotsprings in Somerset & Brittany—seemed to send a signal last week from the Heavens—Aurora Borealis usually a feature of winter skies—to festival party-goers excited to return to mask-free music in Britain, Berlin, Monte Carlo, Miami, Santa Cruz, Mendocino, Monterrey, London’s SouthBank Centre and NYC’s Central Park.

Stormy Times Call4 Stormy Measures—Can WiFi Forestry Replace Corn Dolly-Clyack Sheaf

All along Scotland’s North Coast—Aberdeenshire, Moray Firth, former Banffshire, traditional inshore fishing boats like this oak vessel in Gamrie Bay plied waters from Peterhead to Elgin, Black Isle, Highland Fault-Glenfeshie-Caledonian Canal ©G.Robertson

From birth in the Ocean on ancient Pictish Burghead Fortress’s North Shore beach, STORM is daughter of a long tradition of Clavie-burning crew of Fire Festival-every-Quarter men & youths who shoulder a burning barrel of tar, below rt. around the coast town dispensing gifts of charred oak to residents, then hoist it to Doorie fire altar on fort’s highest rock to smoulder and burn, saving one ember for next time.

STORM, the gigantic puppet robot doll made entirely of environmental waste, is THIS WEEK gracing Edinburgh’s groovy Festival Fringe with her unique presence. Joint Creators Trees for Life, Glenfeshie, Invernessshire original Findhorn Foundation spin-off guru Alan Watson-Featherstone’s 30-yr forest, and Vision Mechanics Storm’s creators, are together spreading the word on #NewAgeConsciousness & tree-planting

Sunspot Triggers Summer Aurora & Pacific Tropical Storm Stevo

Across the pond, Hawai’ians pride themselves—nay boast—of another goddess: higher-than-Everest 29,000ft Mauna Loa (calculated to snow-covered peak from deep ocean floor). She’s a hurricane-buster, famed for side-swiping every ocean impediment that comes her way—Pele-speak for local goddess’s near-miraculous ability to redirect storms north and rain south away from her unique mountain home. Goddess Pele conspires with brother El Niño & volcanic sisters worldwide to spew lava when and wherever possible over machine/mechanical devices to make us (hoomans) wake up!

Ten years ago I was able to post an El Niño video without hassle—they want premium content now 😦

Check out how Pele’s volcanic brethren either side of the Equator are holding our oceans steady in August 2022 on run-up to 8/8 Lionsgate. CMEs turn on a switch. Voilà volcanic mayhem worldwide as Stromboli, Vesuvius, Etna, Sangay Ecuador & Kyushu’s Sakurajima react to Lammas sunspot activity. Twin-sis Mauna Kea spouts from her lava tube in Hawai’i Volcanoes NPS temporarily CLOSED, hoping sunspots & Perseid meteors will slow later in month for reopening. Meantime Big Island virtual pix…

Perseid meteors sparkle to Earth from their vortex in Algol’s binary eye of Medusa clutched in heroic hands as Perseus rescues Andromeda from Cetus, the Whale, below rt. Sirius Canis major rises East to bring breathless Dog Days, the Nile bursting its banks to flood Luxor during hot rainless dry nights.

Appropriately, Guatemalan Elders have known for decades that human ascension predicted by their ancestors has already begun. Daykeeper Hunbatz Men, modern Elder of the Guatemalan Maya, foresees no apocalypse, but encourages deep meditation and generosity to trigger joy & gratitude in a thankless world. Similarly, Islam uses prayer and gift-giving as a discipline.

Signs of the [End] Times or Birth of a New Age?
Judaic scripture [Revelation uses sacred numerology and dramatic descriptions of the Rapture and Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse—war, pestilence, famine and death to symbolize the End of Days.

Arab sacred texts repeat the need for constant prayer by the devoted in order to be saved. The Maya believe that sharing their higher understanding handed down by their elders from the time of their Ancestors will save the human race from itself. Maya wisdom says the New Age began four years ago.

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Ailkey Brae, above bottom left, is classic example of 5,000 years squeezed into Lammas week: Aikey Horse Fair, held as recently as 1980s on the harvest stance below Aikey Brae Recumbent Stone Circle [RSC] twins with Culsalmond, at entrance to Glens of Foudland—also RSC territory—where on St.Serf’s day in July, tradition held St. Sair’s Fair on the “market stance” field of Jericho next to its [ruined] RSC. Biblical refs aside, St. Sair was patron of Colpy, sanctified annually at neighbouring Williamston well.

Burning Man, Combine Harvesters, Plant New Trees for Old Times

Meanwhile Black Rock in the Nevada Desert, two hours North of Reno, fave tent-city for Burning Man l.above, long before Covid, will run again mask-free this year August 28-September 5th-a post-pandemic event: main tickets $575—$100 more than in 2020. Tents, camping, food vendors festival materials included.

If you are shivering in goosebump land because of Jack Nicholson’s 1980 psychological thriller, The Shining, directed by Stanley Kubrick, based on the 1977 Stephen King novel, you are wise to keep head down, windows closed as your campervan screeches into high gear mounting 7,000-ft Donner Pass. Kubrick moved King’s Overlook Hotel to Washington state to avoid clash with the real Overlook, which will accommodate late festival-goers as spare camping back-up. Nightmare city!

FIRING-THE-GRID IN FEBRUARY 2023

While we’re staying cool and hydrating hourly through this heatwave, it’s good to plan ahead for a world super-togetherness event, Fire-the-Grid2 February 21, 2023. World meditation focus on that day will peak at the moment of 11:11a.m., so plan to be seated, safe in your comfort zone ready to feel joy—biblical rapture—for minimum five minutes by 11:07. The Universe is giving you four minutes to prepare.

Agriculture Adaptable to ReNew-able/ReOldie-Wayz

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Sentimental throwback time, above :agriculture eclipsing summer in winter: Kirkton of Bourtie top, farm steading in winter of 1981 later converted to posh modern (granite) house complex; lower: RSC same farmer’s field with summertime barley bales rolled like missing megaliths against midwinter sunset in S.W. Kirkton of Bourtie stone circle, glimpsed from the Old Manse.

TRADITION LINGERS IN THE OLD WORLD

Traditionalists are still rampant in Europe—nay Colonialism never died. Countries bordering the former “Silk Road” were affected by opening of the Suez Canal, Qanātu as-Suways, 1859, linking the Red Sea & Mediterranean, as 1500 years of travel became a short 120-mile ocean hop, skip & jump between the North Atlantic and southern Indian Ocean.

Egypt is main beneficiary, as water level—Nile linked to SIRIUS rising—became controlled: only loss was having to re-site iconic Abu Simbel temple to higher ground. Ethiopia, Iran and Arabian Gulf nations boomed as the Red Sea dried up.

With such history of drought & water-consciousness, it’s satisfying to watch Saudi ingenuity triumph in the desert. Snaking for 100 miles from Red Sea shoreline, construction on the wondrous temperate-climate-controlled triple level high-rise mirrored city, THE LINE has begun. Two sub-levels house train track & infrastructure, leaving street level for glass-enclosed gardens, theatres, offices, 24-hour restaurants, recreational pools, sports arenas and a 100-mile shopping complex.

No cars or trucks. Completion is due 2030.

Saudi Prince Mohammed bin Salman’s 115-mile solar-mirror city as high as Empire State building 1500ft but only wide enough to accommodate 100-mile high-speed rail track-no cars or roads-for nine million residents who have a five-minute walk through mirrored gardens and orchards for their morning cup of coffee

All Stops Out for Dream Concepts & Dealing with the HEAT

THE LINE Saudi dream-city makes for interesting contrast.

Proposed as robotic-press-button permanently cool, totally-enclosed 100%-temperature-controlled habitat along a new RedSea-DeadSea highway, The LINE will bring artificial light-cum-air-conditioning where only camels plodded before. Unlike the Saudi rail link which serves Mecca from the coast during annual Hajj for Eid gift-giving after the Ramadan fast, the LINE breaks new ground, heads for mountainous terrain where shopping, walking, pool-dip coffee-klatching become the norm over minaret calls, mosques and touching prophet Mohammed’s A.D.605 Black Stone.

Veteran Song Circle/Fire Festival Traditions Bring Communities Together

STORM,robot sea goddess walking from NE Scotland’s Burghead Pictish 8thC stronghold in Moray Firth last fall’s COP26 Birmingham 2021 ecological summit; tree-planting forest walk this week to Edinburgh Festival Fringe

If the thought of camping out in mud-soaked portaloo-contaminated rain-drenched fairground conditions in Reno NV, top, gives you goosebumps, think again.

Those running the show have learned from past Music Festivals—Newbury, Glastonbury, Big Sur, Woodstock, to current Leeds, London’s LLCM Meltdown Festival & 4 Scots fans THIS WEEK Edinburgh Festival Fringe— do your own thing—be gentle with the Earth, our Mother—plant a tree yourself—Add your 21stC futurist consciousness—and a donation—2Storm & the Forest

Beyond Uranus or Back Underground in Writers’ LavaTube Hideaway

NASA’s recent launch of its James Webb telescope reveals unprecented images of Uranus, top middle left—in my oldie-but-goodie mind joining V.ger and Spock in that uncharted area beyond the Solar System called the Kuiper Belt—Spock-Speak image top middle rt. Alien Klingon ‘wessel’ ditching in San Francisco Bay, Spock in white, Scotty in charge of whales—movie Star Trek IV the Voyage Home.

If URANUS’ moons and her vertical axis [c.f. Saturn and Jupiter on the horizontal] delight and inspire you to plant another garden in the Earth—from above or below—go for it. Plant up a storm

The gardening Caledonian pine tree-planter in me wants to stay topside all the time. But my writers’ Muse is a stickler for personal discipline—that’s freedom in subterranean #lavatubespeak!

8/8 LionsGate this week & Lammas goes on for another three. Enjoy. ©2022Marian Youngblood

Saturnalia, a Saturn-Jupiter Conjunction—Feasting & Ritual 2020 Solstice

SATURNALIA and SATURN-JUPITER CONJUNCTION

December 2020 will not disappoint. Hard on the heels of celebrations for Hallowe’en, Thanksgiving and Diwali by a world weary of restrictions, comes Greek/Russian Orthodox Advent and—back to our pagan roots—Roman Saturnalia.

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You thought Hogmanay in Scotland (December 31st) was wild, unruly and, like the people, friendly. We’ve a whole gamut of cultures to wander through before the month is out, and that happens.

Saturn-Jupiter 20-year ‘Collision’: Giant Conjunction on Solstice

Meantime, astronomers and astrologers are scanning the evening skies and their charts in preparation for Solstice, December 21st—the longest night—and the moment before dawn aka 10:20a.m. PST when both giants, Jupiter and Saturn, come to within one-tenth of a degree (6.1 arc minutes) of each other. So close, they will look like one bright star.

Nightly, the gap is rapidly closing between the two, as worldwide telescopes—except the sad, abandoned Arecibo— pictured below after collapse—are nightly trained to watch the northern heavens. The Great Conjunction happens when both planets’ orbits appear to intersect from our Earth view. Jupiter’s orbit round the Sun—’sidereal period’—is 11.86 years. Saturn’s is close to 30 (29.65 years).

They met in 1980 and 2000. But, the last time they met this close was 1623.

‘A sidereal period is defined as the time required for a celestial body within the solar system to complete one revolution with respect to the fixed stars. Saturn’s period of 29.65 years multiplied by Jupiter’s period of 11.86 years amounts to 351.65. Dividing this value by the difference in their sidereal periods gives us 19.76 years.’ Space.com 

Roughly every 20 years, Jupiter and Saturn have a rendezvous. Photo NSF Arecibo after second cable snapped, November2020

Coincidentally, that Great Conjunction of 1623 was 20 years before the Great Fire of London which destroyed and incapacitated the Great Plague. Shadow phantoms surfacing for 2020, amid medical excitement at the prospect of a new vaccine.

Roman Saturnalia Pulls out all the Stops

The ancestors knew how to handle stress, chaos, the unknown. Prior to the darkest times, even before all our Solstitial shenanagans, there’s that time of anticipation in preparation for Yule, and the 3-day ‘standstill’ of the Sun. When time appeared to stop, the Ancients gladly rejoiced at its return, rebirth, reincarnation. Romans chose to celebrate (Julian calendar, December 17-23) in all-out chaos-defying orgiastic manner. Feasting, baths, Games, entertainment. With loads of wine.

By late Roman times (early Christian era), the Circus Maximus was alive with events, chariot races, slave gladiator hand-to-hand combat, spilling blood in the day, and wine at night.

KRONOS (Roman Saturn) was the primordial Greek god of time. In the Orphic cosmogony he emerged self-formed at the dawn of creation. He was seen as discorporeal, serpentine in form, with three heads—of a man, a bull, and a lion. He and his consort, serpentine goddess Ananke—Inevitability—enveloped the primordial world-egg in their coils and split it apart to form the ordered universe of earth, sea and sky. After this act of creation the couple circled the cosmos driving the rotation of heaven and the eternal passage of time

Khronos, Father Time—in his human persona Aeon—holds zodiac wheel in balance for human race

Kronos in Greco-Roman mosaic is Aeon—Eternity personified. He holds a wheel inscribed with zodiac signs and Gaia—Mother Earth—reclines at his feet, c..5thC Nonnus of Panopolis described Aeon as an old man with long, white hair and a beard, but mosaic-shows a youthful figure

The figure of Kronos was essentially a cosmological double of the Titan Kronos/Cronus—Father Time. Confusing the heirarchy, Hellenist culture sometimes merged Kronos with creator-god Phanes, and occasionally with the Titan Ophion. He became Saturn, Roman god of agriculture and abundance.

Saturn metamorphosed for Rome, as god of regeneration, dissolution, plenty, wealth, agriculture, periodic renewal and liberation. Saturn’s mythical reign was depicted as a Golden Age of peace and plenty.

At some point after Circus Maximus became such a success—Bread and Circuses appease the masses—the god of a successful harvest (including grapes) and bountiful year-end had focus of his celebration enlarged to include gifts from Bacchus, Dionysus, Cupid. Latterly c.4thC it was a necessary therapeutic year-end party for the people that lasted six days. Rich and poor alike, all work ceased and the rich reclined in their triclinium, and the poor reached over laden tables and drank themselves into oblivion.

It was not unknown for rich Romans to have their digestive systems soothed and enhanced by addition of hemp to the communal wine decanter.

Ladies were not immune to the charms of triclinium dining, top left. They usually ended in a drunken orgy or were spirited off by a faithful servant to attend the Games while sobering up. A week of solid eating and drinking, attending the vomitorium and returning to the table, plus attending Circus gladiatorial displays or chariot races must have been a punishing schedule. But, as they say, it’s only once a year! Carpe diem.

Celebrate Last Dark Days & Return of the Light

Writerly Shoutout to Celebrating NaNoWriMos

Once that Saturnalian party atmosphere begins to illuninate your dark days, and remembering we Space Age writing revellers-in-Lockdown are able to find ways to celebrate nobody ever thought of, there are a few signs.

Saturnalia: Time of MisRule and Synthesis

Romans decorated their houses with wreaths & seasonal greenery, shed traditional togas in favour of colourful clothes called synthesis. Slaves especially didn’t have to work during Saturnalia. Their servant’s cap was removed, & they got to share in the festivities, sitting at the table while their masters served.

No work was undertaken, law courts were closed, They spent 17 days & nights (extended late A.D. 2-3rdCC to Jan.6 Epiphany) drinking, gambling, singing, playing music, feasting, vomiting, bathing, socializing and giving the gods and each other special gifts e.g.wax taper beeswax candles—cerei— seasonally symbolic of return of the light after the solstice. Circus Maximus entertainment was high on citizens’ social calendar. Think Gladiators & free food.

Snow, Hail or Lightning, Keep on Writing thru the Storm

Venus balances Mars’ fire as the Sun stands still on cusp of Capricorn for three days. Its rebirth is heralded by Saturn and Jupiter conjunct, both at 0º Aquarius midheaven with Mercury direct. All go for new beginnings.

For those fellow scribes who just completed their writing marathon at NaNoWriMo, bet you’re glad November is over. Breathe. There, that brief rest was short-lived—look out here comes Saturnalia—then Christmas: another pagan tradition reworked to fit in admirably with human need for ritual—for beginnings and endings. Interesting that Mithras, Dionysus, Horus and Krishna were born at Midwinter. Happy Solstice.

Post scriptum—with the heartening news of a British-International vaccine, we can all give a sigh of relief. ©2020 Marian Youngblood

October Opens the Passage to Our Past

OCTOBER OPENS THE PASSAGE TO OUR PAST : The Writing Option Keep on Keeping ON

Roman Month Celebrating No More War—at least till Spring

Thank the Romans for their efficiency, as well as their need for ritual to take time to give their gods especial reverence at the harvest end of the year. Like many early civilizations, dependent on the Earth for growth, food, sustenance, this was a time of endings.

From a more advanced urban mindset, citizens welcomed home the troops in October, signalled primarily by the joy of seeing returning campaigning legions home for the winter: it coincided with—most important—grape harvest, along with publicly celebrated wine ratings in each vintage. So, naturally, there would be no-work days, time for parties.

And, most anticipated, the free-for-all Capitoline Ludi games.

Alabaster Mars god of War with his golden spear, made peace with Juno & Ceres at harvest time

After heavily-armored marches through alien and conquered territories, great importance was attached to receiving returning armies of footsoldiers with the blessing of Mars. A special entry into the city through a gate of purification allowed them to release all warlike thoughts, ritually cleanse their weapons for storage, and prepare to become peace-loving citizens—at least till spring.

An ancient trilithon gate, predating Caesar’s campaigns at one time marked a sacred portal into the city, through which soldiers returning home had first to pass in order to release their warlike passions and resume their roles as Quirites (people of Rome).

Jupiter usually presided over all festivities, but in October he shared the glory with Juno his wife, her attendants, and with Ceres, goddess of the harvest. Mars had his own Ludi on the Campus Martius, but biggest games of the season were held on the Ides (15th, half way through month). Then Jupiter let loose all his thunderbolts for the chariot races at the Capitoline games, celebrating the horse—Equus October—with feasting and sacrifice.

Surprisingly, our heavily-embedded Hallowe’en season at month’s end—disguised as frivolity, but aligned with pagan, Gaulish, Saxon, Celtic and Pictish tradition—was celebrated early in the Roman month, before the Nones (9th), in an attempt to appease their gods of the Underworld and Death. They witnessed Earth Opening Mundus Patet, before throwing the world’s most lavish party.

Public Blessing of Water Shrines

And, if you thought throwing a coin into the Trevi fountain was a modern happy-return charm, Romans gave offerings to Fons, god of springs, as part of FONTINALIA ‘Ante Diem III Idus Octobres’ runup to Ides games. Both were public holidays. Garlands were hung at springs and wells throughout the city. Custom of offering coins to wells and fountains in the ancient Mediterranean was widespread, as all sources of water were especially venerated by city and country people alike. Harvest depended on a good water supply.

Ante Diem III Nonas Octobras (3 days before Nones) Mundus Patet (EarthDoor Mundus is opened)

One of three times in Roman year—plus August 24th & November 8th— when the mundus, Gate to the Underworld, opened so the dead might communicate with the living. Pluto, god of Underworld, allowed traffic between the two!

Parrot familiar communicated with those gone before

“it is as if the door of the grim, infernal deities were open.” Varro

In Julian calendars it was technically a dies comitalis; no public business could be performed. No battles could be fought, no ships set sail, and no marriages could take place on days when the mundus to Hades was opened. All underworld spirits could roam the land, and therefore any actions undertaken on such a day would be inauspicious.

IDES OF OCTOBER

Feria Jovi —Feast of Jupiter, Equus October—October Horse—alongside Ludi Capitolini (Capitoline Games)

The Ides of each month were sacred to Jupiter, but the ides of October were nefastus publicus, something special. It included events dedicated to Mars rivalling those of Jupiter. Indeed Jupiter bountifully shared his glory. On this day, chariot races in honor of Mars were held on the Campus Martius—literally, Mars’ Field.

The right horse of the winning pair was sacrificed by the flamen Martialis on an altar to Mars right on the Field. Before being sacrificed, the horse’s head was adorned with loaves of bread, and cake, to acknowledge and thank Mars for protecting the harvest. Mars was primarily an agricultural protector-god, rather than sole warrior god.

All in honour of Mars.

After the horse was sacrificed, its head was cut off and decorated with cakes, while residents of two neighborhoods, Via Sacra and the Subura, in friendly rivalry vied for possession of the head. If the Via Sacra got it, it was nailed it to the wall of the Regia; kings’ palace. If Subura, tradition nailed it to the Turris Mamilia. Meanwhile priests collected the tail and genitalia of the sacrificed horse, still dripping blood, and paraded it to the king’s house, where it bled on the sacred hearth. Vestal Virgins then collected and kept the gore and ashes for distribution at Parilia, a spring festival.

October 19 ARMILUSTRIUM —Purifying Weapons of War Let in Light

A bunch of dirty, blood-thirsty, gritty warriors with nothing to do during the winter months wasn’t a good idea. To avoid contaminating the city and its civitates from being infected by contact with the blood of ‘colonials’, priests of Mars danced and sang in the streets to Mars. In a great lustratio, rite of purification on Aventine Hill, the tubae, sacred war trumpets—reminiscent of pagan Pictish carnyx, were sounded, as the arma and ancilla sacred implements of war were purified and put away until next year.

Battersea [Brittonic] shield typical of British-Caledonians’ armour against Rome

October All Over

Brittonic military might, including combined armies of Brigantes, Iceni, Caledonians and Pictish Men of Fortriu were a force to be reckoned with. Septimius Severus and Agricola were in no doubt about their tentative hold on the Ultima Thule of Britain. Safety was always envisioned as returning to Rome for comfort, family and celebration. After all, the tribes of that remote colony had challenged the Empire on several occasions—most threatening being Queen Boudicca’s AD61 uprising which destroyed Roman Londinium and St. Alban’s.

Writing Emulates Ancestors in Hallucinating through Hallowe’en

Hallowe’en nowadays is almost a relief, after touching on its antediluvian origins. Masks replace masque balls temporarily in 2020, but the urge to write—to create audibly, visually or virtually—has become commonplace in times where solitude and catchup reading have been life savers.

If we read the portents for October 2020—Jupiter conjunct Saturn with Pluto; Mars rivalling the full moon—Draconid meteor showers in progress until month’s end— we scribes in the writing community may be forgiven for choosing the nose-to-the-grindstone option of holing up in our writer’s cave, locking the door and… writing.

Either that, or throwing in the towel. Not yet, I hope. We need one or two ancient goddesses in our corner, if only because next month is NaNo time <; Thank you Juno, Ceres, Vestals alongside Mars, Jupiter; and long-lost Britannia.

©2020 Marian Youngblood

Solstitial Heat, Third Lunar Eclipse Open Doors to Solitary Creativity

SOLSTITIAL HEAT, THIRD LUNAR ECLIPSE OPEN DOORS TO CREATIVITY
Monthly Writerly Corner Catchup During Troubled Times aka Doing Solitary

Letting off steam—before orders for isolation were introduced, July 4th fireworks display at Mount Rushmore was dramatic event, 2020 now cancelled

Against a dark sky, all flowers look like fireworks
— G.K.Chesterton

You have to find what sparks a light in you so that you—in your own way—can illuminate the world
― Oprah Winfrey

Despite its name, the Roman Candle—beloved of every generational member of the family, bar the dog—was not invented by the Romans.

By the time the nations in their vast Empire blanketing Europe began to fight back, forcing retreat and eventually bringing down their civilization, the most volatile explosion in the entire region was the sputter of temple oil tended by virgins.

Around A.D.1,000 Li Tan, a Chinese monk, stuffed a stalk of bamboo with a saltpeter-based gunpowder and launched it into a fire. Present-day Chinese major festivals shoot fireworks to celebrate New Year (February, Candlemas) and at the autumn Moon festival. Before global fascination with nuclear energy, it was commonplace for street children in (former) Shanghai to set off homemade ‘sticks’ (Chinese firecrackers) made from a hollow bamboo filled with powder, and lit with a tissue-paper taper. Light the touchpaper and stand back—literally.

After fireworks took hold, ammunition immediately followed, as did black powder bombs and mines. The first fire arrows (rockets) and fire lances (early proto-guns) were used in the Chinese Song-Jin wars at the Siege of De’an in A.D. 1132. Hand canons, developed from fire lances, were in use in China by the late twelfth century.

Pyrotechnics and Letting Off Steam

Fireworks satisfy human desire for sparkly things or to express release of inner explosive emotion

When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
the heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes
Calpurnia to Julius Caesar, William Shakespeare

Inside info on manufacture of bangers and fizzers notwithstanding, youngsters in most countries are limited to enjoying fireworks at preordained times: most famous, British Guy Fawkes Day, November 5th—often held as municipal gatherings around Hallowe’en, old Samhainn. In the American continent, all celebrate the calendar date of the Declaration of Independence July 4th, not only for lighting up the sky, but for giving the nation a national holiday.

Sadly, this state, city and even village custom seems to be missing in 2020. But desire for it—blasting off in some form—has not.

Illegal Roman candles after midnight may seem the answer to some, but law enforcement agencies are waking up from their own ‘solitude’ and lack of call-outs—so johnny-come-lately Guy Fawkes behaviour not encouraged.

Distraction in the Skies—Read A Book Outside at Midnight
Looking upwards for entertainment? or for inspiration—July 4th penumbral lunar eclipse of a full Buck Moon should help; though its best visibility is the middle of the Atlantic ocean. But it’s a start.

While evening skies (in Northern hemisphere) may be very bright right now—in Scotland and Northern Isles sunset 10:30p.m., “read a book outside at midnight” time—most of the planets deck the pre-dawn sky. But both Jupiter and Saturn will appear very bright by July 24th. And two comets currently cornering the Sun will reappear—if they survive the ordeal—for naked-eye observation by end month.

Calpurnia Caesar was always right. Well, in the words of her husband Julius, Caesar’s wife was ‘above reproach’. Her prophetic statement, over, may be seen by us writers as predicting great change to come; or supreme assistance (from the heavens!) in completing our current WIP. Fear and doubt begone. I believe celestial help is being offered. Insecure Writers or not, we shall overcome.
©2020 Marian Youngblood

Names and Name-Calling—Generational Giveaway

NAMES AND NAME-CALLING—A GENERATIONAL GIVEAWAY
Attempt at Humor in Monthly Writerly Cave, When All Around Are Losing Theirs…

Lavendar’s blue, dilly dilly
Lavendar’s green
When you are King, dilly dilly
I shall be Queen

Don’t Despair—Humor Crosses All Borders

Roland, der Riese am Rathaus zu Bremen… North German iconic past

Traditional girls’ and boys’ names seem to be in disfavor at the mo—both with Millennials and with their offspring—iGens. Who these days would name their child Guinevere (Wessex-Saxon), Marian (Anglian Northumbrian), Marjory (last Pictish countess of Buchan), Eric (Viking), Roland or Norbert (Norddeutsch, with appropriate refined accent)? Or even Eve or Luke (multi-purpose Biblical)? unless to commemorate a generational icon within the family.

Roland, der Riese, am Rathaus zu Bremen
Stand er ein Standbilt, standhaft und stark*
North German medieval icon in Bremen marketplace, used to teach ‘correct’ purist pronunciation in Hansestadt accent

Saturn Return (30) and Uranus (86) Cycle
Experiencing the joy of knowing a friend from Old School times—he’s on his third Saturn Return while I am delicately navigating the waters towards my Uranian first; it occurs to me that iGens and their offspriing (yes, it’s happening) may be missing a huge opportunity, nay, treasure trove of centuries, in calling themselves Lavendar or Thyme (‘Sixties and ‘Seventies cool); Bron, Zion or Dwayne (‘Eighties/Nineties) or (Noughties) Star, Elf, Lake.

I met a man the other evening calling himself Vivid. As a token Boomer, I am now almost totally deaf; so I heard him call himself Ribbit. Like the frog, I thought; and enjoyed repeating it a couple times, until a sensitive friend gently corrected me. Guess if you are Vivid, all the world must look bright to you—or at least rainbow-hued. I kept the Ribbit joke to myself.

In 1969, when the Hippie Generation resolved to have only one child—or fewer—world population was 3.6 billion souls. In 2020 we have reached a staggering 7.8 billion. I register astonishment that we have doubled in my lifetime; but wonder how Mother Earth can sustain. [Coronavirus and Gay/Lesbian marriages notwithstanding, perhaps we have some responsibility to curb our enthusiasm for progeny]. Imho.

Days of Week, Months show Opposing Ancient Traditions

Brigantian bronze mirror, AD600-900, found 2019 in elite grave Birdlip, Glos. Brittonic-Pictish women made all tribal and lineage decisions

If Roman names were still with us, we might name a child Mars, Venus or Cupid. Where English and German went Viking/Saxon, weekdays in France still recall Roman gods. Lundi is Monday/Montag for the Moon, jeudi for Jupiter; where in the Saxon world, Thursday/Donnerstag god Thor (thunder) is in charge, with Freya, Norse goddess of Love and wife of Odin, giving her name to Friday/Freitag. The French venerate the same goddess but with a Roman name: Venus = vendredi. Saturday, Sunday and Monday align both calendars: Saturn-day, Samstag; Sonntag for the Sun; Montag for the Moon.

Name-calling Reaches New Heights
I laughed a little when I first heard that for iGens, Stoopid is considered almost the worst epithet you could use. For us Star Trek generation, it’s like using the F-word continuously, or Mr Spock’s version of a ‘Colorful Metaphor’. I don’t get it. There are some doozies out there—Oxford dictionary, Wikipedia, take your pick—and yet that’s all they can come up with? Nothing personal, but poor show, Drama-ah, Lagoon and Racie: your expletives seem lame.

I’m not complaining. My fellow writers’-cave IWSGers probably agree the English language is a source of untold wealth, maintaining an open door—through time, culture and imagination—to whatever the next generation devises.

What we may be seeing is the cultural influence of Smartphones and, with instant messaging, a dwindling of tradition in the written word.

I hope I’m wrong.

Language has so much to offer—it influences a whole half hemisphere of our brain. Without it, the human race rushes towards what? A bunch of Lefties with Right-hemisphere conceptual retention and overloaded emotion without words?

All this—and what currently serves as World News—may make us Bring on the Budgerigar, top, or any current fave instant laughter-producing image. My fellow generational writing stalwarts*, like Space Capt. Alex, will empathize if I quietly hum the 1948 Woody Woodpecker Song.
*Just happens stalwart is North German standhaft 😉
Spoken so initial ‘s’ is pronounced pure ‘s’, not (lower German)’sch’ Translation:
Roland, the Giant, at the Town Hall in Bremen
There he stands, a statue, stalwart and strong.

Guess what? Maybe they need us Oldies after all—if only for our mental filing system.
©2020 Marian Youngblood

Pay It Forward: February Resolve to Crack the Ice

INSECURE WRITERS’ SUPPORT GROUP CORNER

Ultimate irony: more light= more snow

PAYING IT FORWARD—Whatever the Weather

More chill—just one more plod thru the snow and I’ll make it, if…

Such a scenario, I hope, should not happen to a single one of you in Alex’s band of Insecure Writers.

Buxom Ice Maiden on New England’s Arctic front, February 2015, courtesy NOAA

Februarius mensis, after all—even for the Romans—was their “month of purification”. Adopted freely by the medieval Roman Catholic church, it morphed into Candlemas—Purification and doorway to Lent.

“The Feast of the Purification, otherwise known as Candlemas marks the end of the Season of Christmastide” according to Roman Catholic Latin Mass Society

Februarius mensis “month of purification, cannot conceivably have been named for anyone frivolous, one imagines.

Blame it on Celtic Fire Festivals
Yet, long before there was a church hierarchy, pagan/country people worshipped cycles of the Earth, relating sun and moon movements to life and daily work. In pre-Celtic Europe Candlemas was Feast Day of Bride—mermaid birthed by the Ocean with dramatic increase in daily light, Brigantia in Roman Britain, Brigid/Brighid in Irish lore, some identify her with great warrior queen of the Iceni, Dark Age winged monarch Boudicca.

Brazilian CARNAVAL, German Fasching, Mardi Gras in New Orleans and Bahamian JUNKANOO all have the same roots.

Carnaval crazy in Rio-BueñosAires-Hamburg-CaboRoag-Archangel-Everglades-Nassau

‘First come Candlemas
Syne the New Meen
The niest Tiseday efter that
Is aye Festern’s E’en.
That Meen oot
An’ anither at its hicht
The niest Sunday efter that
Is aye Pasche richt.’
Ancient Scots Easter calculation. Anon

Cusp Candlemas waxing gibbous moon, with a congregation of planetary companions

Cosmically, last night’s full moon, parading across the heavens with Jupiter and Regulus in harness, like celestial sundogs borrowed from daytime frolics to dance a nighttime mazurka, gave a little more pizzazz to February darkness.

Magnificent. And in the U.S., they call this Groundhog Day.

It may be short, but sadly, those twenty-eight nights of February are often a crucial month to the human psyche.

It is common knowledge—however tragic—that senior spirits, weathering many winters, often find the ‘two fortnights of Februar’ hardest to bear—(statistically) choose to die.

Healthcare vs. Warfare
Americans may deplore lack of national health and welfare systems, as in Europe, but where poverty lurks, conditions remain identical. Homeless people worldwide—their numbers grow every year—suffer. For some, there is no welfare check, no food stamps, no heat. And when winter returns with a vengeance, bringing an icy blast, street people—no matter which culture dominates—are marginalized.
Many die.

Pay It Forward: the NewAge Way*
One solution to life’s stresses is in the mindset of our Youth.
Reverse psychology had it only half right.
By projecting our loving thoughts, or acting forward-in-kind, we anticipate—and receive in advance—the reward of giving another pleasure, and feeling his/her gratitude
GRATITUDE—winging on a love vibration—certainly makes the world go round.

Octogenarian Angie Dickinson, neé Angeline Brown, shows how best to pay-it-forward
1989 Academy Awards

In Pay It Forward (2000), U.S. film drama based on Catherine Ryan Hyde’s novel, child star Haley Joel Osment launches a good-will movement—almost by accident in doing research for his social studies class. Helen Hunt, his single mother, and Kevin Spacey, sociologist-mentor are stunned when Angie Dickinson turns out to be his real-life street-wise ‘consultant’ for his school project.

Octogenarian and proud of it, Angie Dickinson—my heroine, 83 this year and counting–is one of Hollywood’s hardest working gals. No sign of slowing down, either.

Born Angeline Brown, September 30, 1931 (age 83) in Kulm, North Dakota, her family moved to Glendale-Hollywood, where she graduated in business studies, aged 15. Briefly married to football player Gene Dickinson (m. 1952–60) and longer to composer Burt Bacharach (m. 1965–81), her only child Nikki Bacharach (1966-2007) committed suicide.

Portraying a homeless cohort to young do-gooder Joel in Pay It Forward, Ms Dickinson helps him regenerate other lives which might have floundered. This simple act of anonymous giving, in frame of mind of seeking no comeback, does produce small miracles.

New Age—New Wave—nouvelle vague: we’ve got something here. Rolling with this one—High FIVE

To give, and not to count the cost
To fight, and not to heed the wounds,
To toil, and not to seek for rest,
To labor, and not to ask for any reward,
Save that of knowing that we do Thy Will
― Ignatius of Loyola

And as we know: miracles—and love—make the world go round.
*inspired by a friend & co-believer in humankind

Post Scriptum: THE WAVE
In context of leaving anonymous gifts without seeking acknowledgement—as someone we all know around here does every month—ahem Ninja Cap’n Alex: this a trait which has carried our little group of IWSG-ers through some hard times. I have complete faith that Alex’s own brand of Paying it Forward will continue to support us. And I know I—and loads of my writerly co-travelers—will dig in with both feet as we reap greater and better life rewards!

Let’s enter that Consciousness, New Age IWSGers—go with that Flow, er Wave.
©2015 Marian Youngblood

“

Under the Wire: November Writing Retreat, Celtic New Year’s style

Insecure Writers’ Support Group [IWSG] Corner

November 5th 2014 weather anomaly Eastern/Central U.S. CA basks in eternal sunshine, map
©NOAA

Many times this eventful year, I have longed for time/space to write—at least a few lines at my leisure—within my comfort zone. Events have a way of redirecting our otherwise good intentions, don’t they?

So far, 2014 has been short on leisure.

November heralds Celtic New Year and I’m no farther forward than last Samhainn.

Astrochart for now: 11:11p.m. EDT 11/05/14 Saturn leads pack of Starhounds to Orion’s chase

And, now that fall is well and truly here, my writerly output—like my garden shed—is showing its leaks!

Driving our Engines into the Ground
It’s not that we writers aren’t driven to distraction by our need to put graphite to tree pulp; extract or express some primeval desire hidden in the God-given Word; even one in our own God-driven engine-mind. I have known a fellow scribe who went into catatonia for a fortnight—today we call it ‘withdrawal’ or ‘having a bad hair day’—because she couldn’t find her high school propelling pencil.

Like losing a cell phone or iPod, our sudden disconnection fuels our dependency.

Change of season usually alters our work pattern, anyway. Deep inside, we must be akin to swallows, electromagnetically programmed to changing home base. Bureaucratic daylight manipulation makes it worse: disturbs our brain and sleep patterns, resulting in near-writer’s block.

Heaven forbid. I hope my mind hasn’t also flown the coop, along with my summer projects.

All Fall In

Rainstorms bring water, turn grass green again

If I’m honest, this is the time when I sometimes admit defeat, float around in ‘can’t cope’ mode for a day or two with the change in weather, or, paradoxically, don ‘wellies’ (Wellington boots, rain gear), grab a pair of lethal secateurs and get forceful with a blackberry root.

Needless to say, I’ve found the culprit: something I can blame. It’s easier to point a finger at retrograde Neptune, floundering in his own exalted sign of Pisces, or beg deathstar Pluto to release his vice-like grip on his fellow planet, Mars conjunct in restrictive structure-driven Capricorn! The ancient SeaGoat rises from the waters to vanquish all malingerers…

Under the Wire
We are, I do believe, supremely grateful for excess H20 which fell from the heavens just in time to save us from a fiery death by 2014 heatwave. Water saved us from our (continuing) careless treatment of our planetary home.

It’s mot for me to criticize. William McDonough’s Cradle to Cradle has shown us the way for a decade. We are still playing games with water. I merely add my comment—and gratitude. And pray that fewer hours of light may bring me time to relax, allow me to retreat into inner worlds.

And thanks Alex, as always, for doing what you do.
Dragon of the Stars, indeed. 🙂
©2014 Marian Youngblood

SciFi for Beginners

Monthly IWSG Corner

European Crop Art: Rheigaustrasse Zurich, Switzerland July 4th 2013

The old folks always used to talk about the weather—for something new to say each day. It happened more in country settings where rain/sunshine affected crops, staple of life; but even city-dwellers seem to have become more weather-conscious of late—space-weather, that is—while our earthly home currently goes through some interesting changes:

Tornadoes in Minnesota, hail and rainstorms running through Missouri and down the Mississippi; annual forest fire battles ongoing in northern California—

Great Britain has had its first month of sunshine (July 2013) since 2010—bringing out a few crop circles—but the country is close to power grid overload from excess use of domestic heaters, because the solar panels don’t work!

By contrast, the Aleutians, Alaskan peninsula, Greenland, Iceland, Shetland, Nordkap and the northern Steppes of Russia had a month of blistering cloudless days, with temperatures over 100ºF.

Japan, it seems, had a month of solid rain, but there the weather is affected by the continuing Fukushima ‘clean-up’. Typhoons have followed on the volcanic ‘murmurs‘ [Richter 3 & up] ongoing in New Zealand.

According to solar buffs, it’s happening because earth, now within the sun’s year of solar maximum—an eleven-year cycle at its peak now—is getting more space weather than usual.

And if we didn’t have enough to occupy us on earth, there are next week’s spectacular Perseid meteors, that always make a show on the glorious twelfth. And glistening planets Mercury, Mars and Jupiter in the dawn sky.

It’s enough to make us writers throw caution to the ethers and turn to sci-fi. I know we IWSGers are reader-fans of sci-fi or we wouldn’t be the minions we are to our revered leader Alex. But I mean WRITE Sci-fi.

Earth envoys—the Voyager twins—enter a whole new dimension: heliopause, between solar system and hyperspace, August 2012

Add Comet Ison to the mix—a recurrent comet starting to appear on the outer edge of the solar system—and don’t we hear those Voyager vibes in the background? Doesn’t the sci-fi inner child in us all want to come out?

Beloved Voyager—that last vestige of ’fifties technology—hit the edge of the heliosphere, the heliopause, entered ‘outer’ space a year ago last August. Comet Ison appears shortly in our skies, bright by November. I wouldn’t be surprised if it arrives next month, September, just to add glitz and glitter to the launch of Cassastorm.

Come to think of it, Ninja Captain, are you responsible for earthly tornadoes, rain and windstorms, too?
🙂
©2013 Marian Youngblood

Wrapping Troubles in Fog-Ocean Dreams

POWER OF A Piscean Stellium
Monthly IWSG Corner
Many times during a new transition, a house move, rearrangement of one’s life, writing has to go on the back burner. Much though we would like to keep up the pace, our stamina—our ability to get through it—flags and we feel the need to let it all go.

Ocean pulls in her skirts gracefully; see poem below

So it seems poignant and synchronous that some of us IWSGers over the last month have felt ourselves swayed, influenced—in our writing flow and in other ways—by a huge swelling wave, a virtual convocation of planets and heavenly bodies in the astrological sign of Pisces, the Fish. It is the ultimate watery sign of duality, emotional excess, unbridled boundlessness—some say chaos. A return to our primeval form.

Stellium in Pisces
With the present swing in public fancy to the ‘Astroview’, it will astonish nobody to learn that we are currently midway through a major stellium in Pisces. For the uninitiated, this is astrospeak for turmoil of the heart/emotional mayhem throughout the run-up to the new moon [in Pisces] March 10-11th, 2013.
On those nights, the Sun, Moon, Mercury, Chiron, Venus, Mars, Neptune are held in a crucible within the bosom of Pisces—the most emotional, watery, spiritual sign of the zodiac. These bodies already stand in close conjunction, waiting for the Moon.

Following in the wake of the recurring potent three-year-long stress of a Grand Cross, it isn’t surprising that we now feel like a wet dish rag.

March 2013: crucible astro-chart: Piscean emotion holds seven planets suspended in a ‘stellium’, while Jupiter & Saturn maintain balance on either side

Psychic Piscean ‘Go with the Flow’
Life-affirming Piscean tendencies include:
Compassion, forgiveness and healing without sacrificing your self-esteem
Using the energy of the dream/fantasy to create something that touches people
Faith in what’s healthy for you
Letting go of what drags you down
Seeing what lies beyond the mundane world
Allowing things to happen

Less-than constructive qualities include:
Compassion, forgiveness and healing that drains you
Using the energy of the dream/fantasy to become addicted to someone
Faith in anything/everything, whether it’s healthy or not
Letting go of all boundaries
Denying the mundane world
Passively waiting for things to happen

For those who like specifics,
Neptune entered its watery home sign two years ago and will remain in Pisces through 2024;
Mars moved into Pisces: February 1st
Mercury into Pisces: February 5th
Sun into Pisces: February 18th
Venus into Pisces: February 25th
Moon stood in Virgo (full) on February 28th and
will move (new moon) into Pisces March 11th.

The immediate window extends through March 21st, equinox. So, brace yourself!

Being guided by one’s heart and following one’s intuition seems the only way. Or, to translate that in psychiatric concepts: allowing the left hemisphere to dominate—right handedness—will only lead to grief. By allowing our right hemisphere to guide us—left handed creativity—we may pull through this massive—planet-wide—emotional storm.

Sometimes, during Insecure Writers’ Support Week, we get to throw out a little nugget of a favorite subject—astro being one of mine—and our tolerant Ninja Cap’n Alex allows us the liberty of rabbiting on about matters unrelated to the honored art of writing. Such is this post; but since it DOES have a ‘space’ theme, and gives us a little insight into what we’re currently experiencing, never before having been exposed to such a degree of cosmic force, may I wish us all Godspeed and stamina to sail these choppy waters in uncertain times.

Cassini’s fragile Venus cradled in Saturn’s G-ring

To end on a (positive) romantic note, when in trouble, dream…
… and a poem-let of inspiration by my nine-year old muse, inspired by [Neptune and] her ocean vista, top.

The Ocean by Oriah
The Ocean’s waves gracefully in the sunset
Where the seagulls fly
Pink clouds gently float away while the Moon rises
Then the Ocean comes back

No doubt our SpaceCaptain feels mucho at home in the rarified reaches of planetary atmospheres—Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn are all familiar territory; so maybe wishing ourselves well through this emotional roller-coaster is the best support we can give each other. May all our blogs be guided by superlative cosmic forces… sounds like a phrase from his forthcoming CassaStorm.
Thanks again for being there, fellow IWSGers and Alex.
©2013 Marian Youngblood

The Future is Crystal –reworking a WIP

Celestial motif at Honey Street, crop circle formation of June 26, 2011, photo Gordon Burns

When the Crop Circle season really gets going, as it did last week in mid-June this year, their mesmerizing patterns seem to reach out and grab hold of human imagination. And, if you’re a croppie they don’t let go until you’re thoroughly immersed in the ethos of their messages and their beautiful craftsmanship in the corn.

I am hooked every year: I go through the unbeliever stage in early April, when it’s a question of ‘will they–won’t they appear?’ and then when midsummer comes [this year, 2011, the main season was unimaginably late and huge doubt attended any crop appearance], I’m a convert all over again.

In winter the mind wanders to what seasonal miracles appeared and what might have been.

I wrote a whole crop circle-cum-crystal novel for a writing contest in the month of January 2010 and have yet to polish and rework, re-edit and improve it for final submission. So, it is still a work-in-progress, my current WIP. But, because we’re in mid-crop circle season right now, I am daring to share just a taste of its flavor: hope you enjoy. This is one of the middle chapters for
THE FUTURE IS CRYSTAL.

THE FUTURE IS CRYSTAL by Marian Youngblood Chapter TWENTY–ONE
Just as Mark said it would, the trail led towards the main section: the astrolabe, he called it. On the ground you couldn’t tell, but Megan had overheard Colin and Mark discussing over Mark’s laptop, the intricate way the crop circle had been laid out, complete with its new tail formation that had happened in a flash of light last night. The whole thing was beyond amazing. This time the light orbs, the crop circle creators or whatever you wanted to call them, had done something truly out of this world. And, even more miraculous, Mark had managed to capture them on film with his special Kirlian camera.
Even more miraculous, Megan had managed to get some real cool footage on her own camera. It was just a regular state-of-the-art video, but when Colin persuaded Mark to upload the results, she was thrilled to see she had actually got light orbs on screen. How cool was that.

Astrolabe crop circle from solstice, June 21st, 2009, 'phase one' at Alton Barnes

Now they followed Colin along the curved line through the ‘orbit’ he’d chanced upon first off: looked like Jupiter at the central axis, he said, but each orbit had smaller shadows leading to the largest planetary body. If they followed the Jupiter orbit all the way round they’d reach the astrolabe. From the main stem, they could see it all laid out, straight down the field into the distance — at least four football pitches — down the central axis of the tail.
 He led them carefully along the single file path, moving from the smallest circle to one slightly larger, then larger then larger as they progressed along the orbital arm.
Megan followed close behind with the others trailing a little. She paced slowly past neatly-folded wheat stalks lying exactly parallel one with the other as if a medieval monk had come and gently laid each bundle of stems in neat rows like a rush mat leading to a temple. Colin heard Megan’s breathing –- gentle and rhythmical -– measure for measure placing her footsteps where he put his. Neither of them wanted to disturb the pattern, lying so lovingly in a prearranged layout, willing them on through a series of ever larger ‘moons’ to where the orbits connected to the central solar system axis. From there, Colin was determined, from what he’d seen on Mark’s screen, that the pattern opened out and they would find a space to set down all their equipment and really get a feel for the place.

Alton Barnes Astrolabe crop circle 2009 'second phase', June 22nd

There was definitely a sensation in the air and it wasn’t only his sensing like a dowser: he could feel it: a tangible electrical charge.

‘These stems are bent at the node ever so gently, but the stem isn’t bruised or broken in any way. It’s amazing.’ Megan was right behind him.

‘I know; I was noticing that. It’s so carefully contrived.’
Colin couldn’t help himself. He was quick to launch into the scientific explanation, given any excuse. He continued to pace slowly forward, but spoke quietly over his shoulder to her.
‘You know, It’s been scientifically documented that soil samples taken from inside crop circles show changes in crystalline structure and mineral composition. Expert analysis concludes that heat of 1500ºC would be needed to create such a change.’ Megan gasped, but kept her feet on the path in front of her.

‘So the orbs we saw last night were capable of that kind of heat?’

‘Seems so.’

‘Unbelievable.’ They both continued pacing, aware that the other two were gradually catching up with them.
Mark gave a hoot, like a bird. He too must have noticed the bent nodes on the unbruised plants.

‘There’s a big one up ahead,’ Colin called out, knowing Megan was so close behind him she probably couldn’t see, but to give the others a brief guide. Even though these new generation wheat crops were agriculturally developed to grow roughly no higher than knee height, it was still pretty difficult to get any kind of vista; Colin could see a widening area, with a lot of tufted decorative clumps surrounding it like cherries on a Christmas cake. It had to be the joining of phases one and two and the start of phase three.
He decided to continue his little lecture, since Megan was probably new to the whole thing and might be interested. He’d always been quick to spot a new convert.

‘Did you know crop circles also show evidence of ultrasound? you know, the kind of frequencies that are known to hover at ancient sites like Avebury, stone circles and such like?’

‘No, I didn’t.’ She sounded interested. So he went on.

‘And like all ancient sacred sites, crop circles appear at the intersecting points of the Earth’s magnetic pathways of energy; the nodes. Therefore the size and shape of a crop circle is typically determined by the area and position of these node points at the time of their appearance.’

‘Sorry, you lost me there. I don’t quite get that. Say again.’

‘Well, this electric and magnetic energy, it’s quite common here round Avebury. The whole of Wiltshire, in fact; the Salisbury plain…’

‘Yes, I know about Stonehenge.’ She was still following devotedly, both his argument and his footsteps. He liked that.

‘Thing is, it usually happens in chalk; not so common elsewhere. There are areas where they have similar electromagnetism, parts of Oxfordshire have deep underground waterways, aquifers — and Northumbria. Northeast Scotland is pretty heavily imbued with it. But there the aquifers are in granite. It’s something they think may even have protected the ancient sites -– here especially -– from being broken up; something about it that can interact with human brainwave patterns, and because the human body is itself electromagnetic, crop circles are known to affect people’s biorhythms. Consequently, it’s not unusual for people to experience heightened states of awareness and spontaneous healings in crop circles –- a situation also common to sacred sites and holy places. That effect alone could have protected them from desecration.’

‘That’s interesting.’


Milk Hill, Alton Barnes crop circle phase three (end June, 2009), the 'tail' of the astrolabe, photo Lucy Pringle

‘So, you’ve noticed?’

‘Yes. For instance, back there, in that first little circle, I didn’t want to leave.’

‘I have to say you’re not alone in this. It’s been talked about a lot in recent years. The crowd that gathers at crop circles is usually very placid, peaceful. No rowdy demonstrations like a street crowd after a football match.’ He thought that was a pretty good analogy.

‘I wouldn’t expect that anyway. Must attract a different group, these formations.’

‘Yes.’
‘
So what were you saying about ultrasound? I thought lights were making the circles. Are you saying both sound and light?’

‘There’s no evidence to suggest…’ he stopped and looked back at her. ‘…until what your camera picked up last night. Now we’ll have to start all over.’ He laughed.

‘Well, what about the scientific evidence? You said…’

‘Yes. scientifically speaking, the plants are subjected to a short and intense burst of heat which softens the stems to bend 90º at the plant node just above the ground. They seem to re-harden into their new position without damage. They keep on growing. Research and lab tests suggest that ultrasound is capable of producing that kind of effect.’

‘But short bursts of intense LIGHT could do it, too, right?’

‘Well, with what you just provided the scientific establishment –- I mean, your great video footage -– might send them all back to the drawing board.’ He looked over his shoulder and gave her a congratulatory smile.

‘Wow. I like that. But it doesn’t explain how some of the crop lies in one direction and right next to it there it is lying at right angles; sometimes you get four different directions going in one space.’

‘True. I don’t know how they DO it. I just know that the process has been isolated to make it possible.’

‘Ah. So you don’t really know either. We’re all still guessing when it comes to the magical quality and the designs they come up with, right?’

‘Right.’ Colin thought he’d need a whole lot more time back at the drawing board to convince this new audience. He changed the subject. ‘Clearing coming up.’

‘OK.’ Megan glanced back. The other two had caught up and were right behind her. ‘Could you see anything as you came along? I’ve been a little in the shadow of the expert, here. Dogging his footsteps.’ She burst out laughing and Jane joined in.

‘Yes. He CAN get to be a little pedantic.’ Colin did not react. He’d apparently heard it all before. He stepped into the new space, stopped and laid his bags down gently on the matted ground.
The others joined him and paused to survey their new surroundings.

The vista was breathtaking. It did have a magical feel and it spread out in a swirling pattern that looked phenomenal. Like all the smaller circles, growing in size as they progressed round the curve, as well as the padded path by which they entered, the whole quadrant they stood in was matted at a level less than an inch above the ground and folded criss–cross over and back like a woven blanket. Only where the pattern reached the circle’s central point, did the direction and flow of the lay change, going the opposite way.
They were standing in an ellipse, rather than a pure circle; more the shape of a facial oval. There were four quadrants each with a separate directional lay. This gave the pattern a three – dimensional effect, foreshortening the optical distance, so the far edge of the ellipse seemed closer that it actually was. From their perspective, the complete formation must have stretched as much as thirty feet across and forty feet from side to side. They’d come in on a lateral arm of what appeared to be a graphical rendition of the sun, round which the planets with their little moons –- the spaces they’d walked through were Jupiter’s moons –- clung on one arm.
‘See how those two sides are like an ellipse stretched into points of a compass. Two points: left and straight across, forming a geometric outline. That leads to the sextant instrument, I’m sure of it. It’s acting like a compass needle for the astrolabe itself.’ The other three were silent, in awe of the formation. They let Colin speak. A third arm, to their right didn’t actually project, but led the eye all the way down the field, stretching to where they had parked the car. It had to be fully 800 feet long. 
Mark immediately dug out the laptop from his bag and dropped everything else on the ground.

‘I want to see how it compares: now that we have a kind of aerial shot, thanks to Megan and her camera last night, we can see exactly how it connects from here. The ground falls away from us to where the car is parked. Can you see?’ He pointed to nobody in particular. He was joined immediately by the two girls.
Colin started setting up his dowsing rods next to where he’d dropped his baggage on the forgiving wheat. He turned to Jane, who was starting to gesture if she should help.

‘No, you go ahead. It’s a great video. You should really see what it’s like, so you get an idea of our position here -– makes sense. Super idea, Mark.’ He left them in full chatter, and got back to hooking up his equipment.
Mark was already revving up. He had a rapt audience. He started pointing and gesticulating, fully absorbed.


Immaculate central 'lay' of the June 18th 2011 formation at Cow Drove Hill, Kings Somborne, Hampshire

‘See. We’re in the oval here, sort of the ‘face’ of the Sun and from here the full extent of all three phases are visible: not as brilliantly as Megan’s shots, but…’ He keyed up the passage in the footage where the final tail was completely formed, connecting the other two phases, but before it started standing on its tail like a 3D mirage. ‘Now, watch this.’ He went back a couple of minutes to where the orbs were actually forming the tail with its elusive coded symbols.
‘See how they do it? You’ve got the pattern with its teardrop-shaped center – that’s us here… then there’s the configuration of four connected circles on one side and five more circles of increasing diameters on arcs tethered back to the teardrop center. This is the one we came in on. That’s the bit these light guys’ buddies made last week. Phase one the astrolabe; phase two the planets in orbital arcs. The orbits, the little moons we walked through -– they’re just that bit more complex than the first. They happened overnight, too. Then five days later Megan and I get to see a third addition. And see…’ He traced with his finger on the screen the path the orbs had made. ‘See how they just etch and move, etch another line and move. It appears in seconds.’

‘Awesome.’ Both girls spoke together.
‘Kinda like Maya symbols or something from the early Mid–East –- scripts: you know, cuneiform.’

‘Wow. You’re right, Megan. Hear that, Colin? Megan says like Sumerian cuneiform or Egyptian hieratic. It is, you know.’

‘Problem is deciphering.’ Colin didn’t raise his head. He was preoccupied with his rods.

‘Has to be over eight hundred feet in length from the tip of that compass point back there to the other end of the tail, don’t you think, Colin?’

‘Yeah, one thousand feet, easily.’ He was still fixing rods together.
Megan had perceived something else. She was also pointing first to the laptop screen and then out into space over the field.

‘Each of the tail lines of code or whatever they are come up and attach to the ends of each orbit arc. Do you see that, Jane? sort of like a balance like the way you hold your crystal when you’re dowsing.’
Jane peered over her shoulder with a knowing look and then out at the field.

‘You’re right. The damn thing is telling us dowsing code. Did you get that, Colin?’ she called.

But this time Colin was up and away, totally engrossed in his own world, following his rods where they led him, outward from the middle of the ellipse toward a point where the solar system took off into the imaginary world of dreams: the tale of tails, the stuff of fantasy.

‘I think you’re right there, Megan. Better get my crystals into action.’ And Jane dug her quartz out of her pocket and held it up in front of her face.
The pale transparent beauty hung completely motionless for a moment, dangling in sympathy with the still air and glinting in the sunshine at the end of its slender thread. Then, as they watched, imperceptibly at first and then with more momentum, it began a clockwise spin.

Mark went back to studying the laptop images, but Megan couldn’t. She was completely mesmerized by the gleaming orb.
@2010-2011 Marian Youngblood ‘The Future is Crystal’

Three 2011 crop circles cluster round Honey Street: Barge Inn at upper left with orb #1CC left; centre #2 Knave of Swords, July 4th; upper right #3 cuneiform script, also July 4th, photo Olivier Morel

Interestingly, in 2011, when the season started to get busy — from summer solstice on — a series of ‘orb/orbit’ crop circle images have appeared — at Kings Somborne, Hampshire and near the Barge Inn at Honey Street, Wiltshire. The Barge Inn is famous for its ‘croppie’ clientele and, without fail, the fields in its vicinity get adorned every year at this time. Last year it was the 08/08 Honey Street fractal; this year there have already been three formations: two on July 4th and the spinning space object (photo, top, June 26th, 2011).

There has been much speculation and discussion about incoming intruders from space. Least of these was the June 27th Antarctic special, a non-starter, asteroid 2011-MD, so-called asteroid-doc, which passed earth at 1700UT with 7000 miles to spare. Others include varying reports on the threat posed by comet 2010-X1 Elenin, expected to cross Earth orbit in September. All seem to feature in the rash of orbiting bodies pictured in the 2011 crop circles.

This year’s season, having started late, may still surprise us. If you like, you can take this excerpt of my novel, The Future is Crystal, as a little taster of croppie things to come.
©2011Marian Youngblood

July 4th Honey Street Crop formation #3 points North (rt): 'Milk Hill' script, cuneiform or alien code?

postscriptum: when I posted the above ‘flash fiction’ excerpt from one of my chapters, I wasn’t expecting corroboration… but the Honey Street #3 crop circle which appeared a.m. July 4th is indeed a version of cuneiform [like 1991 Milk Hill coded script] mentioned in my text. Woo-hoo! MY