Morning, White Waking Moon, Day 23

The morning is softly fresh and bright, with a layer of gauzy white clouds filtering the sunlight.  Crows are flying around and calling, jays are conversing with each other in the spruce, and a squirrel is running to and fro amongst the branches of a tree across the way while my hens rootle about in the leaf litter behind their coop.  The air is cool and my breath makes little clouds before me.  The air feels hopeful and happy; the day is glad to be getting on with it, and is enjoying its slow, gentle waking.  As I take in all these sensations, my awareness begins to shift to the Faery Flame burning its warm, green light in the Underworld beneath all, infusing the land with its essence and magic, and I can feel it rising up, thrumming under my feet, permeating the forms and forces all about me.  To honor my ancestors, my heritage, and the morning queen that is the Sun, I recite the Gaidhlig Sun Prayer.  To honor the land where I stand, I give my thanks to my home ~

“Madainn mhath, good morning to you, Mother Cascadia!  Moran taing, many thanks to you, for your many gifts.  May I strive to be ever mindful of them, and to return gifts to you in kind.  May the day be full of blessings, for both receiving, and for giving.”

Breathing in blessings, breathing out gratitude….