~ Winter Solstice ~

Happy Winter Solstice!

the days are getting longer...

Celebrate & rejoice!

Blessings from the Farm 

~ Lori

~ Yuletide ~

 T'was the night before Yuletide 

.... and all through the glen

Not a creature was stirring, not a fox, not a hen.
A mantle of snow shone brightly that night
As it lay on the ground, reflecting moonlight.

The faeries were nestled all snug in their trees,
Unmindful of flurries and a chilly north breeze.
 

The elves and the gnomes were down in their burrows,
Sleeping like babes in their soft earthen furrows.

When low! The earth moved with a thunderous quake,
Causing chairs to fall over and dishes to break.
 

The Little Folk scrambled to get on their feet
Then raced to the river where they usually meet.

“What happened?” they wondered, they questioned, they probed,
As they shivered in night clothes, some bare-armed, some robed.
 

“What caused the earth’s shudder? What caused her to shiver?”
They all spoke at once as they stood by the river.

Then what to their wondering eyes should appear
But a shining gold light in the shape of a sphere.
It blinked and it twinkled, it winked like an eye,
 

Then it flew straight up and was lost in the sky.

Before they could murmur, before they could bustle,
There emerged from the crowd, with a swish and a rustle,
 

A stately old crone with her hand on a cane,
Resplendent in green with a flowing white mane.

As she passed by them the old crone’s perfume,
Smelling of meadows and flowers abloom,
Made each of the fey folk think of the spring
 

When the earth wakes from slumber and the birds start to sing.

“My name is Gaia,” the old crone proclaimed
in a voice that at once was both wild and tamed,
 

“I’ve come to remind you, for you seem to forget,
that Yule is the time of re-birth, and yet…”

“I see no hearth fires, hear no music, no bells,
The air isn’t filled with rich fragrant smells
Of baking and roasting, and simmering stews,
Of cider that’s mulled or other hot brews.”

“There aren’t any children at play in the snow,
Or houses lit up by candles’ glow.
Have you forgotten, my children, the fun
Of celebrating the rebirth of the sun?”

She looked at the fey folk, her eyes going round,
As they shuffled their feet and stared at the ground.
Then she smiled the smile that brings light to the day,
“Come, my children,” she said, “Let’s play.”

They gathered the mistletoe, gathered the holly,
Threw off the drab and drew on the jolly.
 

They lit a big bonfire, and they danced and they sang.
They brought out the bells and clapped when they rang.

They strung lights on the trees, and bows, oh so merry,
In colors of cranberry, bayberry, cherry.
 

They built giant snowmen and adorned them with hats,
Then surrounded them with snow birds, and snow cats and bats.

Then just before dawn, at the end of their fest,
Before they went homeward to seek out their rest,
 

The fey folk they gathered ‘round their favorite oak tree
And welcomed the sun ‘neath the tree’s finery.

They were just reaching home when it suddenly came,
The gold light returned like an arrow-shot flame.
 

It lit on the tree top where they could see from afar
The golden-like sphere turned into a star.

The old crone just smiled at the beautiful sight,
“Happy Yuletide, my children,” 

....she whispered. “Good night.”

Author: C.C Wiliford

Blessings from the Farm

 ~ Lori

~ A Blessed Winter Solstice ~

 Again the Big Wheel turns ~

slowly bringing us more light as the days grow longer now...

so let's celebrate this Winter Solstice!

{or 1st day of Winter, Yuletide, shortest-day-of-the-year...

whichever you personally would like to call it}

this is also the time of the Cold Moon {last full moon of the year}

and the Irsids Meteor Shower!

so, while you're sitting next to your yule fire tonight, 

gazing up at the black'd skye....

watch for signs of falling stars and moonshine ~

and listen carefully 

for the joyous excitement of our beloved woodland, farm & field-friends...

you may just hear the tinkling of tiny bells & small stringed instruments 

accompanied by soft rum pa pum pum's on miniature drums!!

 

Wishing you all a Brightest Winter Solstice my sweet friends!!

Blessings from the Farm 

~ Lori

~ Y U L E ~

 A Blessed Yule to All of our Friends!

of Flesh, Fur ~ Feather or Fin!

I have long-loved the tradition of gnomes, trolls, tomtes or tomtens...

nisse, elf, pixie or fae ~ 

those often-times helpful, but sometimes mischievous sprites that I believe are around us.

I wanted to share with you a few of my very favorite antique postcards depicting the little 'beings' that have captured my heart and imagination since childhood:

please enjoy their beautiful illustrations and sometimes cheeky humor ~

{all have images have been borrowed from Pinterest}

Sweet kitten waiting for cream.

The Holly King.

Yes, please feed the birds!

{{I believe...do you?}}

Hello!

kind little thing ~

...lending a hand {beak?}

i see you ~

a Tomten and his julbock {julbock means 'christmas goat'}

and another jolly pair ~

shhhhhhhh.....

can you smell that coffee brewing?

 

 

and here is a beautiful story of Tomten ~

very familiar to us here....

Tomten

Adapted by Astrid Lindgren from a poem by Viktor Rydberg

It is the dead of night. The old farm lies fast asleep and everyone inside the house is sleeping too.

The farm is deep in the middle of the forest. Once upon a time someone came here, cut down trees, built a homestead and farmed the land. No one knows who. The stars are shining in the sky tonight, the snow lies white all around, the frost is cruel. On such a night people creep into their small houses, wrap themselves up and bank the fire on the hearth.

Here is a lonely old farm where everyone is sleeping. All but one. . .

The Tomten is awake. He lives in a corner of the hayloft and comes out at night when human beings are asleep. He is an old, old tomten who has seen the snow of many hundreds of winters. No one knows when he came to the farm. No one has ever seen him. but they know he is there. Sometimes when they wake up they see the prints of his feet in the snow. But no one has seen the Tomten.

On small silent feet the Tomten moves about in the moonlight, he peeps into cowshed and stable, store­house and tool shed. He goes between the buildings making tracks in the snow.

The Tomten goes first to the cowshed. The cows are dreaming that summer is here, and they are grazing in the fields. The Tomten talks to them in tomten language. a silent little language the cows can understand.

“Winters come and winters go,

Summers come and summers go,

Soon you can graze in the field’s.”

The moon is shining into the stable. There stands Dobbin. Thinking, perhaps he remembers a clover field, where he trotted around last summer. The Tomten talks to him in tomten language, a silent little language a horse can understand.

“Winters come and winters go.

Summers come and summers go,

Soon you will be in your clover field.”

Now all the sheep and lambs are sleeping soundly. But they bleat softly when the Tomten peeps in at the door. He talks to them in tomten language, a silent little language the sheep can understand.

“All my sheep, all my lambs,

The night is cold, but your wool is warm.

And you have aspen leaves to eat.

Then on small silent feet the Tomten goes to the chicken house, and the chickens cluck contentedly when he comes. He talks to them in tomten language, a silent little language chickens can understand.

“Lay me an egg, my jolly chickens, and I will give you corn to eat.”

The dog kennel roof is white with snow, and inside is Caro. Every night he waits for the moment when the Tomten will come. The Tomten is his friend, and he talks to Caro in tomten language. a silent little language a dog can understand.

“Caro, my friend, is it cold tonight? Are you cold in your kennel? I’ll fetch more straw and then you can sleep.”

The house where the people live is silent. They are sleeping through the winter night without knowing that the Tomten is there.

“Winters come and winters go.

I have seen people large and small

But never have they seen me.” thinks the Tomten.

He tiptoes across to the children’s cot, and stands looking for a long time. If they would only wake up, then I could talk to them in tomten language. a silent little language children can understand. But children sleep at night.”

And away goes the Tomten on his little feet. In the morning the children see his tracks, a line of tiny footprints in the snow.

Then the Tomten goes back to his cozy little corner in the hayloft. There in the hay, the cat is waiting for him, for she wants milk. The Tomten talks to the cat in tomten language, a silent little language a cat can understand.

“Of course you may stay with me, and of course I will give you milk,” says the Tomten.

Winter is long and dark and cold, and sometimes the Tomten dreams of summer.

“Winters come and winters go,

Summers come and summers go,

Soon the swallows will be here.” thinks the Tomten.

But the snow still lies in deep drifts around the old farm in the forest. The stars shine in the sky, it is biting cold. On such a night people creep into their small houses and bank the fire on the hearth.

Here is a lonely old farm, where everyone is fast asleep. All but one.

Winters come and summers go, year follows year. but as long as people live at the old farm in the forest, every night the Tomten will trip around between the buildings on his small silent feet.

 The Winter Solstice is upon us!

 Make Merry and welcome the days growing longer once again!

Blessings from the Farm

 ~ Lori