Imbolc, A Turning Point
Gaelic Tradition & Returning Light
It’s February in Western Massachusetts, and as I write, Mother Earth rests under a heavy blanket of snow. With the exception of evergreens like pine, hemlock, and spruce, the trees around me are bare. White birch stand out like skeletons in the forest. Burdock burrs attach to my pant legs, and as I pull them off, I scatter new seeds.
Today, February 2nd is a turning point known as Imbolc in Gaelic tradition. Midway between winter solstice and spring Equinox, this agrarian festival of fire celebrates increasing light, the awakening of ‘the goddess’ and life trying to shed winter. The word "imbolc" means "in the belly," referring to ewes and cows who are about to give birth and whose udders are filled with milk. This is a time when seeds of spring are beginning to stir in Earth. And it is mating season for wolves, foxes, coyotes and other wild relatives. Here in Western Massachusetts, I hear foxes screaming in the night.
In Gaelic lore, winter is ruled by the Cailleach Bhéara, the Grandmother of Clanns, Wisewoman of the Otherworld.1 She is a fierce guardian of the wild who controls weather, builds mountains, guards sacred wells, and created Scotland’s rivers and notorious deep, dark lochs. She has two famous haunts in Argyll, where my grandmother’s people are from: Ben Cruachan, the largest mountain in the area, and the powerful whirlpool of the Gulf of Corryvreckan. In Argyllshire lore, the old people used to say “Tha a’ chailleach aig glanamh nam breacan” (The crone is at the cleaning of the plaids) whenever the roar of swirling water was heard. The Gulf of Corryvreckan, creates a fine spray that mists over the inhabitants of Knapdale. Some refer to the force of the intense, ever-spiraling whirlpool as “the breath of the goddess beneath the waves.”
When the reign of the Cailleach Bhéara wanes in spring, the time of rebirth, the Celtic goddess Brigid begins to rule. On Imbolc, Brigid’s festival day, people watch to see if serpents come from their winter dens. A Gaelic proverb about the weather divination is this:
Thig an nathair as an toll
Là donn Brìde
Ged robh trì troighean dhen t‑sneachd
Air leac an làir.
The serpent will come from the hole
On the brown Day of Bríde,
Though there should be three feet of snow
On the flat surface of the ground.2
As a symbol of the fecund earth, like an earthworm, the serpent stirred the soil awake, uncoiling and rising up toward new growth.
Whether a snake, badger, or squirrel, many cultures around the world turn to a ‘weather predicting animal’ this time of year. For people United States and Canada, we turn to the Groundhog.
Knowing the Earth and her creatures are stirring helps me make it through this difficult part of winter. I also find it helpful to mark seasonal shifts with ritual.
If you feel inspired to celebrate this pivot point with ritual, here are some ideas:
☀️ Nurture Creativity: Brigid is the goddess of fertility, healing, smithcraft and poetry. Read or share some of your favorite poems. Maybe even write or revise your own.
☀️ Nature Connection: Go for a walk in the woods or in the nearest park and find signs of life beginning to wake from winter. Write about it or simply bear witness to change.
☀️ Nurture Growth: Begin planning your spring garden. What seeds will you sow? Maybe it’s time to order some?
☀️ Healing & Medicine making: learn to idenify black birch trees. If they grow where you live, gather twigs from the ground and make a healing, invigoring herbal bath or tea. (I’ll be writing about birch medicine soon).
☀️ Tend To The Hearth: cook a special meal, light a bonfire or even a candle to symbolize the returning light.
If you feel moved to share a favorite poem or practice in the comments, I’d love it. Happy Imbolc ☀️
Sorita d’Este and David Rankine, Visions of the Cailleach: Exploring the Myths, Folklore and Legends of the Pre- Eminent Celtic Hag Goddess (London: Avalonia, 2009).
Alexander Carmichael, trans., Carmina Gadelica: Hymns and Incantations with Illustrative Notes on Words, Rites, and Customs, Dying and Obsolete (Edinburgh: T. and A. Constable, 1900).
Lovely I found your substack on this very day! I too get really bogged down this time of year but thinking of spring coming always helps. Some practices of mine have also been writing poetry and going for walks on the nicer days. 🤍