THE BLUE HOUR
There is an enchanted forest
Where trees move and talk
at the Blue Hour
They catch the Moon
and play football
until Sunrise
When they freeze again
To do their job
And the Moon continues on his journey…
We spend almost every waking hour doing. Being happens along the way, but we do not often focus on it. I have two precious days of solitude at the Forest House where I try to make being an art form. Not imposing myself on the world, not following to do lists. Just witnessing the miracles every single day brings, if only I will stand still long enough to see them and receive the gifts.
This morning I woke up well before sunrise. My Hibernation Journal was already laid out, with a collection of (water brush) pens. My plan was stay in bed, sketch to my heart’s content and write poems. I think of this time of day as The Blue Hour. Here in Scandinavia the Blue Hour of midwinter has its match in the Blue Light at midsummer. At our latitude the Sun then dips below the horizon briefly, but not long enough for the stars to appear. There is no real darkness, only blue light (that you can actually read by!) until the Sun rises above the horizon again.
However, this morning the warp and weft of mysterious bands of light criss-crossing the snow got my attention. I put on my polar gear and went outside to have a closer look: the Full Moon (aptly named the Cold Moon) had made a long arc across the sky and was now behind our house (where Máni reaches only rarely).
On Modraniht I was out in the forest (in blizzard conditions) with a lantern and “lost” my shadow. I wrote in a social media post: “That is where you reach the turning point, when your shadow no longer walks with you.”
Suddenly my shadow was returned to me: a beautiful turquoise (watery) moonlight shadow looked up at me from the snow! I ventured into the Forest to attend the moonset.
WHERE ICICLES TOLL
I walk into the Forest
to greet Máni*
Grinding snow into
Early Hours Porridge
For the Tomtar* and Trolls scrambling
as Daybreak turns the world pink
And icicles toll like church bells
The Death of Night is the Birth of Day.
[Máni is Old Norse for the Moon, perceived as male in the Old Norse Tradition, and a tomte is a small gnomelike figure of Scandinavian folklore]
My shadow sister and I watched Máni set. He was handed from tree to tree, landed ever so softly in the snow, and dived below the horizon. We paused by a fallen tree which looked like the ribcage of a giant. Death hosting New Life.
FJÄLLRÄVEN
Falling snow gently covers
the bear skull in the boreal Forest
And blankets the bones
Inside its ribcage
an Arctic Fox has made its home
And dreams of a pale Moon
as the Sun peeks briefly
over the horizon
I once made a painting titled “Putting Frost Flowers on the Graves of Dead Poets” (it appears just below) so I wanted to see the ice flowers blossom in our greenhouse.
ICICLE ORCHESTRA
I opened the door to our greenhouse
(Currently an ice house)
And icicles started
chattering and clattering
Their voices united
In a symphony
I had walked into a church service
not intended for humans.
I crept out quietly and made my way to another building, my Forest Studio. Here I encountered more big magic in the frozen lilac tree by the window…
MY SNOW DAUGHTER
I hear a little giggle
like a piano with keys made of icicles
being played, a merry dance, a childish tune
In the lilac tree
Standing guard over my Forest Studio
glistens a child made of ice
Nearly ready to be born
by the light of the Morning Star
She grew in the Womb of Mother Night
My Snow Daughter
My little Ice Maiden
Snegurochka
[From Russian: Снегу́рочка, where The Snow Maiden, is a character in fairy tales]
What would happen if you spent one day focussed on being, rather than doing? Please let me know in the comments!
PS I am well aware that an “ice baby” will hold different connotations for people, some very emotive or difficult. We speak of frozen embryos as “snowflake children” and of stillborn babies as “being born sleeping”. We all know what is happening to children in zones of armed conflict right now (see my recent blog: Holy Mothers Night for Children of War). Speaking only for myself: I have three sons but I occasionally see glimpses of the daughter I never had. As a very Nordic person (who feels happiest in the Arctic) I sometimes think of her as a Snow Girl living in a fairy tale.
Would you like a dose of Nordic magic everyday? Follow me on Instagram or Facebook!
Imelda, Forest House and School, Sweden
BIO FOR IMELDA ALMQVIST
Imelda Almqvist is an international teacher of Sacred Art and Seiðr/Old Norse Traditions (the ancestral wisdom teachings of Northern Europe). So far she has written four non-fiction books and two picture books for children. Natural Born Shamans: A Spiritual Toolkit for Life (Using shamanism creatively with young people of all ages) in 2016, Sacred Art: A Hollow Bone for Spirit (Where Art Meets Shamanism) in 2019, Medicine of the Imagination - Dwelling in Possibility (an impassioned plea for fearless imagination) in 2020 and North Sea Water In My Veins (The Pre-Christian spirituality of the Low Countries) will be published in June 2022.
The Green Bear is a series of picture book for children, aged 3 – 8 years. The stories and vibrant artwork, set in Scandinavia, invite children to explore enchanting parallel worlds and to keep their sense of magic alive as they grow up.
Imelda has presented her work on both The Shift Network and Sounds True. She appears in a TV program, titled Ice Age Shaman, made for the Smithsonian Museum, in the series Mystic Britain, talking about Mesolithic arctic deer shamanism.
Imelda is currently working on a handbook for rune magicians (about the runes of the Elder Futhark) and on more books in the Green Bear Series. Imelda runs an on-line school called Pregnant Hag Teachings, where all classes she teaches remain available as recordings which can be watched any time!
Website: http://www.shaman-healer-painter.co.uk/
YouTube Channel: youtube.com/user/imeldaalmqvist
Online School: https://pregnant-hag-teachings.teachable.com/courses/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/imelda.almqvist/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/almqvistimelda/
Twitter: @ImeldaAlmqvist
Beautiful thank you. My daughter is definitely in a fairytale I think she would spend her time between snow and water. The Inuit tale of spirit babies being the aurora came to mind. I am generally good at making time for being nevertheless these lovely poems are a good reminder as the why
Beautiful poems and paintings!
Indeed we are always so busy. That is what we have learned.
“ Ga tot de mieren gij luiaard.” “ Ledigheid is des duivels oorkussen.”
I try do to nothing every day at least 30 minutes. It is on my to-do list 😉.