constant state of flux

Although we are under five feet of snow, in the last few days I have felt the most imperceptable stirrings from the deep down in the earth. The birds, who usually lie quietly in the thicket, are all a twitter – carrying gifts for their mates, fussing around in the bush, tidying and making ready for spring. This little brown bird sat watching me as I was in the kitchen yesterday, as it picked seeds from the stalks of bare grass and I dried grain.

I was drying sprouted wheat berries in the oven and listening to birdsong from the garden. It all seemed very appropriate for St. Valentine’s Day as I am not interested in chocolates or roses. I am deep in the ways of nature and the movement of the year towards spring – I watch it creep forward, on and on.

There is something in the air. The sun moves onto the chalet from 11.30 a.m. and sometimes we have a thaw. Golden shafts beam through the snow clouds onto occasional snow flurries and although there is still much snow to fall, the cold does not seem so penetrating. The ice of dark midwinter when I thought about the Holly and the Ivy seem a world away.

In a jar in a warm patch in our bedroom (we have a very cold house) is my sourdough starter; my little pet, yeasting and fermenting and growing a beard (even though there is a feminine energy infusing the maleness of winter right now). It seems all of a sudden the thing to do, grow your own bearded bread and for me, it has suddenly become a priority.

It is a sacred act, as if the power to change the seasons can be captured in a jar and worshipped. This is fitting Valentine’s gift enough (Jules loves bread more than chocolate) and worship it, we will.

The success of fermentation is of great importance in all older cultures, and because it was held to be a religious event, not a secular one, its every element was imbued with sacred meaning……the activity of yeast, and what it offers human beings, has been an integral part of human success since the dawn of time. Its presence was integral to most of the food production and to the ceremonies around which food production occured.

- Sacred and Herbal Healing Beers, Stephen Harrod Buhner.

My hard winter wheat berries have softened; they sprouted and I have dried them in the slow heat that is infusing all life with promise right now, even the little tails of each baby berry will become part of my first batch of bread and closer to the cycles of the earth my family will become. I am not sure whether the sourdough starter will have so much success, perhaps an offering to the four corners of the house may help somewhat……

My children are very interested in all this, they would like to sow the sprouts in the earth, curious as to what type of plant they will grow into. I tell them we are manifesting the magic that resides in all things into a small loaf of bread, gently coaxing it into life, in a not too dissimilar way to the sun calling to the tweeting birds as they offer twigs to their sweethearts under the hedge. They talk about love.

Happy St. Valentines.