Locally, Spring officially arrived only yesterday. In this place, this season has many heralds beyond a mark on the calendar — warmer air punctuated with sudden snows; green shoots and catkins and a rain of pollen; and especially the return of the winds, blustery, violent, and often dangerous — but above all else, there is one sure sign that Spring is at last here: the arrival of the meadowlark, with his distinctive call. He appeared yesterday morning on the eastern fence, singing robustly to his mate on the opposite side of the land.
There were other visitors yesterday, too: goldfinches, much smaller spirits clad in similar bright yellow dress; a pair of raven lovers murmuring quietly to each other on the same stretch of fence; the ferruginous hawk circling briefly over the fields to the southeast. As with every other season in this place, the spirits of the air define it, shape its identity, give it form and life.
On this day, most of the rest of our small world here will celebrate a holiday brought to this place from half a world away, one that, even then, wedded more ancient Pagan rites to the newer tradition that called itself Christianity. Now, it’s simply called Easter, but even the name springs from roots indigenous to other lands and ways that have nothing to do with modern pretensions to the teachings of a young Jewish carpenter, a political revolutionary in his own time, but everything to do with seasonal motifs of renewal and rebirth.
We looked at these latter concepts briefly yesterday, with another entry in Wings’s series, The Firebird Collection. Today, we feature the piece that gave the series its name. From its description in the Necklaces Gallery here on the site:
Firebird Necklace
The standard-bearer of Wings’s Firebird series. The Firebird is a spirit being, a wingéd one in red and black who emerges from the flames to fly between the worlds. Wings has captured her essence in this magnificent piece, a necklace in a feathery shape that takes visual and tactile flight. The wing-like pendant, a spectacular bezel-set rosarita teardrop trimmed in twisted silver, fans out into tips of sterling silver and old natural blood-red coral. It hangs from a substantial hand-made bail embossed with images of the Eye of Spirit looking in all directions. The entire pendant is suspended from a stunning strand of traditional beads formed of alternating segments of apple coral rondels and jet discs, all tapering upward in classic graduated style. The beads are 18.5 inches long; the pendant hangs 2.75 inches long (including bail); the setting is inches 1.75 long by one inch across at the widest point; and the rosarita cabochon itself is 1.25 inches long by 11/16 of an inch across at the widest point (dimensions approximate). Other views shown above and at the link.
Sterling silver; rosarita (gold slag); branch coral; apple coral; jet
$2,200 + shipping, handling, and insurance
To outsiders it seems, perhaps, an odd choice to feature on Easter Sunday, a day more commonly devoted to pastel colors and gentle themes. It is, I would argue, actually a far more fitting work for this day: After all, what is the Firebird if not a form of Phoenix, a creature that, in its old form and body, is immolated in the flames, only to rise from the ashes, born anew.
I know that there are self-styled [non-Native] “experts” who have insisted that the Thunderbird is simply the Phoenix, but there is no truth to that assertion. That does not mean, however, that many of our peoples do not possess symbols and stories like that of the wingéd spirit of the flames: Our traditions are rife with stories and spirits of transformation, of resurrection, of renewal and rebirth. And it’s difficult to find anything more transformative than the resurrection of the body, in this world, into a new, stronger, more powerful being. It’s resurrection as quite literal rebirth.
It all links up with the natural cycles of birth and death, of dormancy and renewal, in very concrete ways. In many of our cultures, cremation has long been practiced — indeed, since time immemorial — and often in conjunction with scaffolding, a practice that, whether deliberately or only indirectly, hints at the notion of the spirit flying free, renewed after the death of this body and the purification of the flames.
In this place, it’s a practice brought quite literally down to earth, as the few wind-free days of this season are regularly devoted to small controlled burns to clear away that which is already dead, its life force departed, and make way for renewed growth. Here on our own land, the ditches and fields are already blanketed with sooty black burn marks . . . and for weeks now have been busily birthing lush jade-green patches of new grass.
It is the natural order of things: after winter’s dormancy, a renewal by fire, birth and baptism alike. And here, as in Wings’s work, it is the spirit of the Firebird that guides the resurrection, shepherding out world into its new life.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2016; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owners.
