Second Planting

The letters are sent and the donation given, and a project begun. I may, if things work out, be starting a large collaborative quilt intended to both illustrate desire for peace and, possibly, serve as a point for discussion here in the States. I need to check on a few things first, but I think I can do this.

My idea for the design right now is a tree, where anyone can add a leaf, and a border of hands, where anyone can add a hand.

I never remember to celebrate Lughnasa. It's here; it's already crept up on me, and I find I am celebrating it unawares. One of my writerly friends called August 1 the day when everything starts over, halfway through the year--when we can begin again. And today, I ran into a mention that Lughnasa has survived as a date in the almanac for Second Planting.

In the current heat wave, everything feels overripe--we're at the opposite of February chill, and the burned-brown grass seems as infertile as the frost. But this is a restarting point: new endeavors, undertaken while we're in the flush of growth from summer.

On one hand, it's a nudge not to rest on our laurels, but to keep planting and keep working. On the other, it's a new beginning, hyper-aware as opposed to the sleepiness of Imbolc. So this must be a twofold celebration: praising the brillant ripeness of the summer and hoping for the new endeavors we begin today.

New endeavors; like a quilt that will likely take a year, like applying to graduate schools, like planning a wedding. Today's heat and heavy air can't prevent us from the second planting.