The winds have been unrelenting today. It was evident weeks ago that Stribog had turned back gentle Zypheros, but He seems keen on making His presence especially felt today.
The ground is littered with branches and leaves; the power went out for about an hour this afternoon. My mind keeps turning back to this same time period of years past.
On the family farm, the apples would have all been harvested by now. Those that are left on the ground are resigned to a squishy fate now that the cows aren't around anymore to be given the leftovers. The grape harvest is long over, too. The frost came on fast, as always, leaving a week of sun in which to pluck the deep purple-red jewels from the vine. Now is the time when the chickens must die. All Summer long, they were meticulously cared for, doted over, spoiled. But now they are fat and heavy, you can taste the snow on the back of the wind, and there's no way to support them through the Winter, no desire to. Their entire purpose has been for this one sacrificial moment which will carry several families through another harsh Winter. It seems a grisly tradition, but this is what the final Harvest is about.
Stribog demands the trees rid themselves of what cannot be maintained through the Winter, Samhain bids us do the same within our own lives.
What will you be releasing? What you will harvest, sacrifice, in order to survive, to better your current situation? What changes are you making for the New Year?
Throwing the Bones
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