#Michaelmas

[kinginthemask]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐫

Happy Michaelmas !!

𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑑, 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙.

[mamaangiwine]

"The Sun must forfeit his throne- lest he become a Mad King."

Happy Fall.

[catholic-paladin]

John Howe's Sir Gawain and the Green Knight artwork

Until the Michaelmas moon Has winter's boding brought; Sir Gawain then full soon Of his grievous journey thought.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Tolkien translation.

[pagan-stitches]

An adaption of Porter’s Seasonal Celebrations Cookbook’s pickled plums (in the Michaelmas chapter) using foraged American Persimmons.

Visit @portersposse to view the explorations of the cookbook @msgraveyarddirt and I had with friends for a year or two awhile back.

[gnosisandtheosis]

Blessed Michaelmas to all who celebrate.

[cookiewishesyou]

This September 29, 2024, Cookie wishes you a happy Michaelmas! In some regions, legend has it that eating a goose today will bring good luck. Cookie thinks that any food is a lucky thing to encounter.

[musingmelsuinesmelancholy]

Some things I’ve been thinking about. At times being an American trad witch is incredibly frustrating and at others it’s absolutely exhilarating, rewarding. Reconnecting with my ancestral ( primarily french and scottish ) lore, magical practices, witchcraft etc has and will continue to inform my practice but I’ll never be a “french” witch. I’ll never be a “scottish” witch. I can find a lone hawthorn or a sacred tree guarding a hidden spring to tie the cloutie to, I can divine via a snail’s mucus trail, Fly to the Sabbath to meet The Abbess, heed the Dame Blanches, pluck the golden bloom with songs to St Columba, safeguard me and mine via silver, spring water and juniper. Yet there’s many things I’ll never know or be able to do. Whether that’s because these things are so tied to the land or a specific place, language barriers, ( working to overcome this one ) or due to the ( well warranted) gate keeping of lore and practices.

This used to be a source of great confusion for me. I think because I was afraid( due to my previous new age fuckwittery ) to experiment, do anything other than what I understood as “traditional”. My understanding being too rigid at the time; the pendulum swung from one end of the spectrum to the other. This delayed my progress and “froze” me. I was left wondering what an “American” trad craft would look like; most our books do come from a European POV. Learning of our own magical traditions as well as those of my Canadian family ( still working on that one haha ) helped. Reading Robin Kimmere helped. Reading Schulke, him being an American and writing on American plants, helped too. I’ve come to know Sugar Maple and Plantain as powerful spirits. Both teaching important lessons on how to rectify my ancestors mistakes, to foster relations with the First Peoples and how to incorporate the magic of this land into my craft. Rather than being frustrated by my being American I see it as a challenge now. I get to explore spirits, plants, places, animals, spiritual/physical ecologies ( is even really a difference between these?) completely unknown to my ancestors. I get to reconcile the old and the new. To learn from Spirit Direct. Tradition isn’t the worship of ashes, it’s the preservation of Fire. New wood must be added to keep The Fire burning. The Devil of this land certainly is a spirit of the unknown.

I am the land, the land is me.

I don’t own it, to it I owe all.

To it my body will return, the tithe paid.

I’m not rolling hills of heather, white chalk cliffs, the monk’s island nor the azure coast. The memories of these places echo distantly in my blood, sung alive by my ancestors shades. Part of me they’ll always be; yet it’s not who I am. Not what I am.

I’m craggy shores, dull-jade waves bearing down upon the tired rocks. I am musky pine forests veiled in mist. Sun-venerating oaks hugging the shoreline. Bleeding alders in damp ground swelling. Proud maples sustaining generation upon generation with their boiled blood. Death-grey clay, exposed by running spring.

I am the kudzu, the itching moth, the knotweed, the Norway maple, the ivy wrecking havoc upon the land. My surname and light skin proof of a genocide ongoing. I am my ancestors sins; the specter of the Old Growth forests, their grief hanging over the land like a fog. Every interaction with The Land tinged with sadness, loss.

I am my maternal side’s copper curls. Melusine’s pride. Ave Landry! Ave Gauthier! Forebears mine.

I am my paternal side’s grief. The end result of decades of cultural warfare. The Jesuits stole our name….my hair will not be cut.

Never will I libate these glacier carved valleys with booze.

I am the plantain, learning a kinder way. The sumac reclaiming the orchard.

My Februarys, my Marches aren’t snow drops and daffodils peaking through the frozen ground. They’re steely skies and walls of sleet. Bloodroot heralds winters wane; not Brigid’s flower.

My June isn’t fields of poppies, it’s seas of crimson staghorn blooms skyward reaching.

My augusts aren’t golden shafts of wheat, swaying in summer’s last breaths; they’re explosions of neon-violet and honey-yellow. Corn ripening on the vine, supporting the climbing bean. The cicadas song reverberating.

Old Michaelmas marks harvest’s end, October potatoes long buried in soils darkness finally exhumed. The Devil his Rosy Briar to ascend and plunge.

With Novembers first snows the Dead come in.

I’ll never process around a standing stone nor know what it is to live and eat off the land my dead lay in. Finally, I’m learning to be at peace with this. To love and know the land I live on. I’ll always be a stranger here, a guest. I hope to be a good one.

[chamberofthespirit]

Sadly, I had work yesterday so I wasn't able to celebrate (maybe I can today) but...

Happy Michaelmas! I hope it treated everyone well yesterday. I hope the Lord and Archangel Michael protects you all throughout these upcoming dark and cold months. Thank you Archangel Michael for all that you do to protect against evil and negativity, and thank you to all the other angels who work hard to fulfill their duties. I hope everyone has fun during the fall and winter. Blessed be!

[megadee]

Happy Michealmas!

[thecrankyprofessor]

Church of St Michael, Lucca, Italy.

I loved the staircase up the back of the façade!

[saint-stanthony]

A belated Happy Michaelmas!!❤️‍🔥🗡🕊

I created a small offering plate for the archangels and Michael, offering fire, prayer, and calling on them to bless the items on my plate for me. I also created a cross made with cinnamon sticks and red thread. Cinnamon, and other spices, I associate with Michael, protection and good luck. I also took time to honor and pray to Donar, a Germanic deity I see syncretized with St Michael who’s also associated with protection, thunder/lightning and the color red. Remember to thank your protective spirits in your life whether that be the archangels, your ancestors, deities or other entities, and show them love too!

[mercurialkitty]

May your Michaelmas be filled with happy endings!

Happy birthday to Adam Milligan, born on the feast day of the archangel Michael, who is his grumpy boyfriend. 🎂🎉😘

[remembering-heaven]

May peace come to all who seek it 🕯⚖️🗡

[sorenblr]

HELPING MAINTAIN KENJI'S DELUSIONS SO WE CAN FUSE SURT LATER

TONIGHT, September 29th, 8:00 PM EST/7:00 PM CST, we're celebrating Michaelmas with just a regular helping of Persona 3 FES! The intro part of the game is over and now it's onto the game part of the game, as we probably take on the High Priestess and her crazy green train. Tonight!!!

Stream: https://www.twitch.tv/streamingknowledge

Archive: https://www.youtube.com/@streaming_knowledge

[pagan-stitches]

Dug out the Autumn embroideries. I usually start transitioning around Lammas so I’m really late this year. At least I’m on time for Michaelmas.

[thaliawashere]

It's Michaelmas

Just a wee reminder that Netherfield Park is let at last.