I swear the wheel of the year's accelerating, or maybe it's just the
requirements and pace of modern life. Whatever. The blessing of
Lughnasadh and first harvest is upon us. Raise a toast, the energy of
the green man is spent, his time at an end (for now), his sacrifice will
feed the tribes. I'd like to hope that folks
literal and metaphorical seeds have born fruit, though a cursory glance
about reality indicates that in both natural and human realms it's
clear things aren't quite right, and they might not have. Still, we're
always grateful for any bounties the fates bestow. Lughnasadh blessings
to all. /|\
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