The summer has arrived and what a glorious summer it’s shaping up to be. Does it fly in the face of witchdom to love summer so much? This witch doesn’t think so. I
probably definitely look better in black clothes, huddled around a Samhain bonfire, but these days you’ll find me in shorts, a t-shirt, and no shoes. Which suits me right down to the ground.
Summer Witchin’ In The Garden
I’m not a gardener but I enjoy gardens. Sitting in them mostly with a drink in my hand. Could be lemonade. Might be a nice cup of tea. Likely to be a cold beer or fruity little cocktail. Gardens are fabulous. I’ve found an unusual enthusiasm for my own garden of late. I had a weekend of divine madness and went all Monty Don on myself and planted purple-top verbena, salvia, lavender, vegetables, and anything else that struck my fancy. I’ve been digging and planting and making plans for a water feature. Who am I? I’m becoming less like Nancy Downs and more like the aunts from Practical Magic than I care to admit.
I walk a fair bit and there are some downright spectacular gardens in my neighborhood. The roses smell divine. Jasmine is blooming everywhere. I really do stop and smell the flowers. I’ll likely as not get arrested for trespassing because I’m all about wandering on a property so I can stick my nose deep into lemon blossoms and take a huge inhale.
What I love most are the community gardens filled with summer blooms and vegetables. Not far from my house is a walking trail that’s been replanted with native flowers. It’s just gorgeous. I can’t get enough of it. Throw in buzzing bees and butterflies alighting on fragrant flowers and twee little birdsong and we’re verging on perfection.
“But where’s the witchy, magicky stuff”, you ask? It’s absolutely everywhere. The sun is shining. The gardens are in bloom. I’m inspired. My fingers smell like lavender and dirt and I’m connected to everything. This is summer witchin’ at it’s best.
Summer Witchin’ In The Kitchen
Of course, it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t talk about a little witchin’ in the kitchen. There’s nothing I like better than cooking up a huge meal for friends and then just faffing about for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Just last week I helped make a low country boil. Check this out – Lobster, tiger prawns, corn of the cob, potatoes, andouille sausages, whole garlic heads, and big ol’ onions, all seasoned with a wicked mix of southern spices. We ate like gods. I had butter running through my beard and onto my chest. We quaffed ridiculously good wine, tossed back beer after beer, and generally ate ourselves into a stupor. Dionysus would be proud of me. Bacchus would be jealous and would ask for an invite to the Gwionalia (note: Bacchus was indeed invited to this feast).
Summer Witchin’ Out And About
I went wine tasting last week with dear friends. Spent the day in and out of vineyards and tasting rooms. I’m going for a walk in a lavender labyrinth tomorrow. This weekend I intend to toddle off to the beach and wile away a few hours alternately eating a cheese and cucumber sandwich and dipping my toesees in the surf. I have plans to kayak with my daughter and wander through ancient redwoods. I’ll saunter about farmer’s markets with a basket brimming with fresh delectables.
It’s my plan to swan about at least once a month, and better it be if the sun is full, and assemble in some garden or park or beach with others or contentedly alone, and adore the spirit of summer.
Sounds divine, don’t it?