Spirits in Summer
This week, I was reminded that it’s about time to continue my seasonal series, talking about the spirits in and of the summertime.
It’s still hard to do anything other than start with my own feelings and reactions; not only am I a spirit myself, but I also have to acknowledge that my experience of the spiritual is always affected by my own experience and frame of mind.
Summer is the time when I feel most energetic and alive, the time when I’m called out in the world to be a part of it. Walks in the evening when the summer sun is slowly setting, weekends filled with outdoor activity, it’s a season that both draws me toward the experience of the spiritworld, and distracts me from it. It’s all too easy to take fun and play for granted, but some of my best summer moments have been when I’ve slowed down and really taken the time to feel and appreciate the energy around me.
For the spirits of the land, summer is a time of steady activity as well, soaking up the sun and growing strong, preparing seeds and roots for the downswing of light and temperature that inevitably follows it. And there’s always the risk of that going too far, of withering under the heat, especially for those plants and creatures that need help from others to survive. In a way, this feels like that tension between ‘just go have fun’ and ‘pause to appreciate’; too much energy isn’t good for anyone.
When I do manage to slow down, and turn my thoughts toward care (whether that be watering plants, or just communing with nature), I experience the spirits of summer that way too; strong, to the point of risking overwhelming. The river-snakes are always there, no matter if there’s enough rain for the river itself to run, and when it’s dry, they’re more hot stony rock.
But even when the flow of our local watershed is inconsistent, this is also the season when I’m most eager to connect to the spirits of water otherwise. Whether it’s floating down a river, or swimming in a lake, summer is a time when those bodies of water is both sorely needed, and (usually, relatively) accepting. I often travel to western Michigan in the summer, and when I look out over Lake Michigan themself, I can’t help but feel the presense of something alive, untamed, and yet still so willing and able to support the life and the happiness of those who live on their banks. I love to sit there on the shore or on a pier and just feel that power that both doesn’t need me, and still accepts me… at least if I’m careful, and can handle the cold water.
Turning to the spirits of the built world, I feel an urgency to them, much like with many of the land spirits. When it comes to the City, this is the season of Pride, with all its mixed blessings. When it comes to things closer to home, it’s the season when we first moved into this house, first tried to work with the spirits of Land and Hearth to see how to both put our mark on it, and share it with our community.
Blazetide, our festival of creativity and sharing, is our attempt to put a shape to those feelings of energy in the early half of the summer, and so its central imagery is of a phoenix in full strength (one it shares with the spirit of our hearth). But then, Summer progresses into the rite of Fire’s Need, where we ask what those vibrant spirits call us to do, to keep that energy going when it’s not shining down for free from the sky.
I love the summer, and I love thinking about spirits in summer, because it’s one of the easiest times for me to want to reach out and connect to them. It’s good to remember that they’re always there, and all I need to do is look for them, to step away from just seeking after summer fun for a moment, and I’ll find something entirely different that makes me just as happy.