Spent a wonderful day with my family at Cae Non yesterday! The weather was hot and sunny with blue skies and the land was awash with blossom. One of the main focuses of the day was the ritual mixing of our Lammas loaf – or in this particular instance, four flat loaves which were baked on a planc or griddle over an open wood fire. We all took turns to knead the dough and then left it to rise under a damp cloth in the
The land of Cae Non! Our land is actually visible in this picture, but you have to know where to look!
warm sunshine while we wandered off to climb a neighbouring hill.
In spiritual terms, hills can be seen as liminal places, between earth and the heavens. (Think of the tradition of climbing a hill to receive wisdom – Moses and the ten commandments or the Quaker, George Fox, who had certain revelations on Pendle Hill.) This time of year is the season of the grain harvest and in ancient agricultural terms, the time when the masculine energy of the ripening crops of grain sacrifice themselves to the scythe and sickle of the farmer so that humanity might feed and prosper through another long winter.
We climbed to a space which sits high between the sea and the narrow land of Pen Llyn, with the lofty, hazy mountains of Snowdonia in the far distance. Villages, fields, bays, beaches, hills and mountains were spread out around us like a huge and magical quilt. It felt wondrously freeing to literally rise above it all and get life into perspective. To look down and literally and metaphorically see everything mapped out below. We could also clearly see our own land of Cae Non, vigorously bushing out with young tree growth as it transforms from a boggy, weedy, neglected field into a shady, sunny, be-flowered adventure of magic and mystery.
How many thousands of generations of our ancestors have sat besides such a fire to cook and eat their meals?
The wonder about the natural world – and life in general – is that there is always something lovely to anticipate and look forward to. I hope that you are enjoying this powerfully invigorating and nurturing season and storing up all the sunshine and Vitamin D against the darker, colder days to come.
Later, once more restored to our own domain, our own miniature domain, my husband lit a fire outside and we began to cook and bake our evening meal. The sun sank lower in the sky. I have noticed that already the quality of sunlight has begun to change from the bright, clear, almost white light of midsummer to more mellow, golden tones which herald the approach of autumn.
For those of us who are lucky enough not to be experiencing deluges of rain and flooding, the beaches, mountains sides, woodlands and sunny gardens all await you – go out and make the most of Lammas-time… and have fun!
