The midpoint of April, and the day has dawned clear and cold, not a cloud in the sky.
Yet.
If current trends hold, some will build this afternoon, an anemic version of the monsoonal patterns of summer — these, nowhere near enough or dense enough to produce the rain the land so badly needs to heal. Instead, winter’s icy breath skips over the soil, awakening dust devils to dance through the bitter air. A little rain would go a long way toward putting them to rest, as well.
But if we cannot have the water, at least we have the light.
We call water the First Medicine, and so it is, literally and metaphorically alike: This land emerged from the womb of ancient waters, in much the same way as we are birthed into this world ourselves. Without the water, nothing lives. but in truth, the same may be said of the light.
Light medicine, too, is a “first medicine” of a sort, warming earth and air sufficiently for life to survive and thrive, feeding the trees whose leaves give us breath itself. It is medicine, and magic, and mystery of a sort, too, a collaboration with the other elemental powers to create just the right conditions for our existence. And now, its arc grows longer, its glow brighter, enabling us to plant, to grow, to continue the work.
And the work is needed now — a reciprocal, even symbiotic relationship of sanity and survival.
Today’s featured work embodies the medicine that makes it possible . . . and the results that flower from it. From its description in the relevant section of the Bracelets Gallery here on the site:
Light Medicine Cuff Bracelet
Summer is the season of light medicine, the mysteries of the storm and the gifts of the sun and the new life breathed in and out by the leaves of tree and wildflower. Wings calls the light, the breath, and the blossoms to dance together across the surface of this cuff bracelet. The band is hand-milled in a random floral pattern, petals spiraling in great looping whorls around the pistils, edges rising in sharp relief. At the center sits a single bold round cabochon of green-gold Labradorite, fantastically iridescent with the internal glow of sun and storm. The focal cab is flanked on either side by smaller orbs, a pair of luminous round citrine cabochons like tiny suns; at either end sits a round jade cabochon, glowing green with the very breath of summer. Each cab is bezel-set in sterling silver; dual scalloped patterns formed of chained crescent moons linked by tiny hoops trace either edge of the inner band. The band itself is 6″ long by 11/16″ across; Labradorite focal cabochon is 7/16″ across; citrine and jade cabs are 5/16″ across (dimensions approximate).
Sterling silver; green-gold Labradorite; citrine; jade
$1,050 + shipping, handling, and insurance
The inner band is edged in a more cosmic like, broad graceful arcs of crescent moons linked by tiny sacred hoops, orbs like silver suns. It’s a reminder that we hold the light, as well, and when the world seems dark, we must find our medicine within.
It’s a medicine of the sun, of the breath of life itself: the golden glow that washes across the land, the bright petals and rich green leaves that, just opening, will soon have our world in full flower.
And they are beginning to open, at long last. The first tiny leaves emerged on the golden branches of the weeping willows over the weekend just past; the lilac bushes, yesterday. Today, out the kitchen window, one of the shrubs began to leaf only this morning. Bright berries will follow, both on it and on the wild raspberries whose leaves began opening last week.
Yes, we have plunged to fifteen degrees overnight these last two nights; we have a few days yet of bitter cold ahead. But soon, the warming of the earth will be shared with the air around us. The work will grow that small bit easier, if no less constant.
We can expect the world outside our doors to remain, symbolically, cold and dark for many weeks yet, months, perhaps years; experts yesterday were predicting that current patterns will need to be maintained at least into 2022 if we are to avoid apocalyptic levels of death to come. There is no guarantee that the forces of colonialism will permit such wisdom to prevail, and so we must be ready.
And we must find medicine where we can, and illumination, too: In the light, and in our spirits and our hearts.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2020; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
