The Key-Holder as Sacred Feminine

Morning thoughts:  All the Ostara/Happy Spring stuff on the internet combined with a rant my friend Mischa went on last night about how dirty, messy, fiery, bloody and painful spiritual growth is has me thinking about femininity and magic.  Our culture likes to separate feminine magic out into tropes like the scary witch doing the bloody magic (good or bad, maiden or crone), the unconditional love Virgin Mary petting lambs and holding babies, and the sexy fertility goddess. But our modern pagan concept of "the feminine" ignores the reality of running a household, the woman as key-holder.  This role, obvs, isn't inherently gender-specific.  My issue is with how patriarchy separates femininity specifically into the binary of "good and nurturing life" vs. "scary and dealing death".  How the two are combined in woman-as-key-holder is barely mentioned.  This is woman as field marshal, manager, organizing tasks and personnel to make best use of assets. She is the last resort - if there is no one else to perform a task, it falls to her.  She makes life and death decisions for animals and people: who can we feed? And this is where she is vilified:  the same woman who comforts a child, might decide under extreme circumstances to leave another to exposure.  The same rosy-cheeked woman who  tends her flowering herbs in the sunshine also may be found elbow-deep in entrails at another time.  She isn't secluded in her cottage having tea with forest creatures nor creeping out townsfolk who visit looking for potions.  She does the dirty magic: getting the work done through anger and sadness and joy and love.  Holding hands to comfort, holding bloody wounds in service of life or death, holding her lover, looking in the eyes of people she cares for or has to work beside every day.. on their worst days and their best days. And on her worst and best days.   I guess this is maybe where Frigg energy lives... the Freyja part makes the best stories... sex and war.   The Frigg energy is the everyday life and death: building relationship with plants, fate played out in dumb games at family reunions, the dynamics of long term marital partnership of individuals with their own aims and goals, the chess of long-tern strategy for guiding generations. 

My stream of consciousness has run out of steam so I guess I'm done.  This is what I'll think of whenever I see all the various pagany springtime memes this year.

Okie Wheel of the Year: April 12 2021

The Iris-ening Begins!

Happy New Iris Storm Moon! That is my name for this moon because I could not decide between “iris moon” and “storm moon”. Irises explode into bloom around the state this time of year and in many places are finished by Beltane. Most of the state’s average last freeze dates are before April 12, except for the panhandle, and severe weather season ramps into full gear over the next few weeks. Some places have already seen storms, but according to the most recent USDA crop report much of the state is running a little behind on rain. Wheat, oats, and rye are growing, canola is beginning to bloom, and corn and soy planting is beginning. Just about everything is getting a slightly later start than last year. That’s no surprise. All the blooming things appearing in my FB memories show that my plants are lagging a little, too, but knowing it’s not just me gives me hope for the stragglers.

baby blackjack oak

The oak trees are leafing out.  I love how the tiny leaves start out fuzzy with a pink tinge.  Oak trees are often one of the last trees to lose their leaves in fall and sometimes they can be one of the last trees to sprout new leaves in the spring.  This year some of the elms in more exposed locations are still working up energy they used staying alive through winter though and the oaks are budding out first.   Although I live in the Cross Timbers ecoregion, the land was cleared of any trees decades ago.  Faster growing trees have returned over the years, but now I scout baby oaks this time of  year as the leaves return but before the grass covers them over.  With enough protection from lawnmowers and other trees, eventually the blackjacks, post oak, and maybe chinquapin oak will return.  Blackjack oaks specifically help give the Cross Timbers the reputation for hard living - if you see a squat gnarled tree with missing limbs and few leaves on a desolate prairie hill, it is probably a blackjack.  They'll be the last thing standing after an ice storm-wildfire-tornado!

Passionflower

For the first time, I've finally been able to grow passion flower and I'm watering the heck out of it until the spring storms finally come.  Whether I'll get any fruit remains to be seen.  That's the gamble of the harvest.  It it such a unique looking flower with an important history as a food and medicine plant for humans and pollinators.  The internet says the plant is special to the Cherokee.  That may be true.  I'm in no position to know one way or the other.   I do know that if you live on top of a hill made of red clay and sandstone, it's hard to grow plants that like growing in ditches.... but not impossible! 

baby Chinquapin oak?

Okie Wheel of the Year: April 5 2021

Blooming Redbuds and the moon

Last quarter of the Redbud Moon and the redbuds are out in all their glory. The Tallgrass Prairie Preserve says that Easter weekend is a typical time for new baby bison to be born. They had one born a little earlier than usual on March 23 and I expect their FB page will feature more adorable baby bison pics soon. The Wildlife dept says spring turkey hunting season opens April 6 for parts of the state, but turkey numbers are down so they have information for hunters on what areas are least impacted by low numbers and ongoing research into the reasons for decreasing populations.  The Oklahoma Biological Survey started their citizen science Spring BioBlitz, where citizens around the state can participate by recording the birds, trees, fungus and things they see online to win prizes. 

fringed puccoon

Meanwhile, thanks to the lack of recent rain and incredibly low humidity levels for this time of year, I’ve been out watering my gardens every single day. That’s not usually necessary this time of year. The Forestry dept reported thousands of acres burned due to wildfires around the state last week. The end of March tends to be windy, but usually those winds come with sleet or hail. I still have a few trees and plants that I’m not ready to give up as winter storm casualties because they may be waiting for spring rains to wake up.  But other plants are right on schedule and filling the land with life.  The drier weather wildflowers are starting to wake up.  The scent of lilacs fills the air.  My haphazard garden is sprouting.  

I spilled the radish seeds

I find myself outside every day busy with some task or other while the crows swirl their social dances in the gusty wind and graceful turkey buzzards float high on the strong currents.  Every day it seems there's a new sound: a bird returning from winter homes, waking insects, new frogs.   And every day I find myself with some new project or gathering or idea sprouting up for the future.  And every night I'm tired, but a good tired.  Too tired to think of anything else to write. 

a froth of lilacs in the air

Okie Wheel of the Year: March 29 2021

Adder's-Tongue Fern

Life is returning to my yard, along with one of my favorite plants to see this time of year: Ophioglossom or Adder's-tongue fern. This crazy little plant doesn't look like a fern at all. It looks like a single leaf sticking straight up out of the ground, or in patches, a whole lot of single leaves poking up. The first time I saw it, I watched and watched for the rest of the plant to come up but most of the time a single leaf is all there is to see. Eventually some of them will produce a spike with spores, which is where the plant gets it's name; supposedly these spikes look like an adder's tongue. I've never seen an adder, so I'll take their word for it. The rat snakes I see are too busy pretending to be a piece of wood or slowly running away to hide to let me get a good look at their tongues.

Tongue-Town at Key's Place

There is also a lily-type plant commonly called Adder's Tongue, so that's important to keep in mind when consulting your favorite plant guide. I know, this is where most people would tell you all about what medicine it has, or how to eat it, or it's magical correspondences. My calling isn't to herbal medicine or kitchen witchery so I'm sure you can google as well as I can. "What do you do with plants, then, Druid?" you ask. Well I just think they're neat! Specifically, I think adder's-tongue fern is neat because they're hoarding all the chromosomes. I've found one scholarly reference to a single-celled organism with more chromosome, but otherwise Ophioglossum has the mostest of all. Theoretically this has something to do with how evolutionarily ancient they are and represents the "evolutionary dead end" of a species. They tried it all and if this fails they go extinct. Theoretically. I enjoy sharing space with this ancient and unique dinosaur of a plant through the spring and summer.

In other news, the Full Redbud Moon has just passed, or as the rest of the world calls it, the Full Worm Moon.  Redbud blooms are scant this year thanks to that late cold snap, but they are blooming.   In honor of the Full Worm Moon I want to highlight the Oklahoma Conservation Comission's Soil Health program.  They have resources for farmers and educators and an interesting PDF on How Can I Tell if My Soil is Healthy that talks about all the parts of healthy soil.  Dirt is kinda a big deal, around here.

Full Redbud Moon setting through raggedy trees

Okie Wheel of the Year: March 22 2021

 

Clover in the spring rain

Happy Equinox!  It was a great weekend to celebrate.  Saturday, the official day of equinox and first day of spring according to the calendar, was a beautiful sunny day.  Today, Monday, we have a proper spring rainstorm to water all the things I planted over the past week.  I managed to get my vegetable garden ready.  Some years I might already have asparagus and snap peas, but not this year.  The daffodils are still going strong.  It looks like the late season snow brought just the right moisture at the right time for them.  The hazelnut, elderberry, and prairie roses I planted last fall seem to have survived and are sprouting leaves.

Alban Eilir Altar - C6FP Druid Grove

I also planted plenty of intention into my life this equinox.  I attended two lovely rituals, both of which involved planting seeds of intention and physical seeds as reminders.  The first ritual, on Saturday, was with the Druid Grove in a park.  We stood in a field of henbit under a cauldron-shaped daytime moon and planted intentions of health and wellbeing and a safe return to in-person gathering.  We sang and crossed the gateway of equal night and day into the part of the year where day exceeds night.  Right before we closed, a Red Tail Hawk circled overhead around the moon as if responding to our calling the powers of the east "With the blessings of the Hawk of Dawn."

Labyrinth Temple Ostara Altar

The other was at the Labyrinth Temple in Oklahoma City on Sunday.  They had a swap meet before the ritual where many treasures were recycled from gardens and closets. The ritual  There were flower petals everywhere and the Green Man drummed the heartbeat of the springtime into the earth.  I learned during this ritual that daydreaming during intention setting meditation in ritual can have unintended consequences.  I came away from the day with a plan and a project I didn't have when I arrived!

It was a great weekend.  I made some new friends, only got minimal mask-shaped sunburn, and have work to do for the future. The Wheel Turns!

Okie Wheel of the Year: March 15 2021

Daffodil-splosion

The monarch butterflies are returning! Oklahoma is dead center of their annual spring and fall migrations. The first returning monarch was reported March 10th in Antlers.  Now is the time to get busy planting and watering the early flowers for pollinators. Here at Unty Key's Crow Bar, the plums and forsythia are blooming, peonies emerging, and lilacs budding. The daffodils finally exploded into bloom right as we moved from what we call the Daffodil Moon in February to the New Redbud Moon in March. The daffodils took their time this year but the redbuds are already budding and may be right on time for the Full Redbud Moon in a couple weeks.

plum blossoms for the bees

As I sat on the porch and watched the sliver of Cerridwyn's cauldron moon sink into the west, I remembered this time of year is not only for planting the garden but deciding what we want to plant in our lives. This week leads up to the equinox on Saturday, when Imbolc energy turns to what my druid tradition calls Alban Eilir - The Light of the Earth. We had dreaming time at Yule and planning time from Imbolc, now is our moment to begin action. Even magical manifestation doesn't come from nothing. 

The druid tradition refers to itself as "embodied", meaning there is no hard defined line separating spirit life and physical life.  During this time when we think about what physical goals or abstract qualities we want to plant in our lives, it is important to remember to link actual physical activity to those goals. We say things like "I plan to work on my bardic grade lessons" or "I want to plant healthier living in my life" or "I want to be more kind to myself and others this year." Setting a teeny symbolic physical task can make a huge difference in us psychologically, physically, and magically moving toward our goals. Tasks could be as small as once per day standing during a 30 second YouTube ad, or before bed making sure the lesson materials are where I will see them when I wake up, or writing "Be Kind" on a piece of paper and touching it once per day.

What will you plant in your life this year, and what small physical task can you do to get your body involved?

forsythia blooming

Okie Wheel of the Year: March 8 2021

first bloom! A sign of hope

Lilac buds, bulb blooms, and lofty buzzards, hurray! Finally we have more signs of spring. Facebook reminds me daily that in past years we had peach and redbud bloom by now. This spring is taking its time, but there is hope. Hope is not a word often used when describing Oklahoma. More often you hear words about poverty, deadly weather, and backwards, judgmental attitudes. There is one surprising place where Oklahoma is actually known for hope: The University of Oklahoma School of Social Work Hope Research Center. Yeah, that sounds kinda hokey, but his theories may actually have some usefulness in the toolkit of your metaphysical, magical personal practice. Really. Hear me out here…

Lilac buds

In his book Hope rising: How the science of hope can change your life, Prof Hellman illustrates his ideas through the lives of several people, many of whom are from Oklahoma.  One is Emeka Nnaka, paralyzed football player turned motivational speaker. Their research measures hope and demonstrates that higher hope scores lead to higher survival and more success in what magical people might call "manifestation."  They define hope as “the belief that the future will be better and you have the power to make it so.” Hope is made up of three things: goals, “pathways”- road maps to achieving goals, and the willpower to follow them. Lacking any part of those those three items, the book explains, results in being “low hope”. One of the keys to raising hope will probably sound familiar to anyone who has been a part of any healthy modern type of spiritual path: being honest about and understanding your own trauma and the effects it has on your goals, pathway finding, and willpower. One of their stated aims is to “Call for the end to shame and blame when addressing struggles of those who had experienced trauma, illness, or adversity.” 

This science guy from Oklahoma is out here telling social workers and politicians they need to do shadow work, basically.  But seriously, this sounds an awful lot like the advice I see experienced witches handing out on the internet: Set your intention (have a goal), get your materials/ritual/etc (find a pathway), and believe in yourself (willpower). These also come with advice like “Do the work; there are no shortcuts.” and “work on yourself first” (self-care, self-esteem, deal with your trauma). While a “science of hope” might sound implausible at first, it seems pretty reasonable in light of what the magical community does.   If a science-y way to improve your ability to manifest work into the world appeals to you, this might be worth checking out.

Who would have thought that science and magic might agree down here in ol’ Oklahoma. Maybe there’s hope for us yet!

Wheeling turkey buzzard

Okie Wheel of the Year: March 1, 2021

Spring Sunset is Treefrog Song Time

A few days ago, I heard a tree frog. Just one. He sounded like a squeaky grocery cart wheel, out there all alone, peeping into the void. I thought the thick snowmelt mud and warm sun must have woken him up a little early and wondered at his future. Then, last night, two more joined in. There’s no rust on the Year Wheel. It is still turning even if it is March 1st and not a single daffodil bloom in sight here. The earlier blooms all froze and wilted. Half of me feels the eager pull of the warming sun to get busy and do all the things. The other half feels more like the storm-broken trees and ice-flattened stems and just wants to rest for a minute longer. Whew, what a winter! I see the new daffodils shooting up out of the ground and think, “Mowing season will be here soon enough. No need to rush. Have a cup of tea and think for a minute.”

hairy bittercress

I find myself walking around the yard looking for signs of life on the fruit trees, the spring bulbs, and under the old withered grass, and thinking about the lessons learned from this winter. Maybe we’ll never see another winter like this in our lifetime. Maybe this is just a hint of climate change consequences to come. Over at the Southern Plains Perspective, a blog about climate change and farming in Oklahoma, they refer to the need for farmers and ranchers to have a “climate change, extreme weather adaptation plan.” This, they explain, need not be a high-tech sales pitch kinda plan, just taking a good, hard look at the weather extremes we see today and think about preparations we are currently capable of making now in case those conditions come again. Sound advice for us all. 

Late shoots survive this time

My own weather-preparedness wish list has definitely had a generator at the top since October 2020. Now is the time to remember the little things that would have made life that much easier during long-term winter weather. Most winters I don’t really need what the northerners would call a true winter coat, but I do need something serious to wear just in case. I also need to replace my rain boots. Cracks above my ankles don’t really matter for walking through mud, but 10 inches of snow makes for a cold surprise.

Thinking about rain boots reminds me that March is time to start prepping for spring storm season. The cold extremes in February overshadowed the lack of actual rain, which means draught is still on the menu. Weather oracles are talking about a drier, warmer spring, but that doesn’t mean no storms. That dry south wind can create some crazy energy. Whew. That’s a lot of planning.. I think I’ll make my cup of tea and listen to the frogs singing the sun down.

Podcast Episode 2 is Here!

Unty Key's Okie Magic Podcast Episode 2: The Saga of Rogue the Red of Neck. Download directly or through Spotify, Player FM or check your favorite podcast source. In this episode, your Unty Key sits down with Rogue of Rogue Tradition to talk about our own love affairs with the land, football, All-Father, and being "redneck pagan". Here is how to find her and the slew of other things I said I'd give links to:You can find Rogue Tradition on FB, Etsy, and Instagram and email at aroguetradition@gmail.com.

Also mentioned:
The NE Oklahoma Pagans FB Group
New Moon Rising with Pax at Anchor, spotify or others OR find him on FB
Fireside Chat with Eimear #23 (with Shanda!) from the OBOD channel
Indigenizing Philosophy through the Land: A Trickster Methodology for Decolonizing Environmental Ethics and Indigenous Futures by Brian Burkhart on Amazon

Okie Wheel of the Year: Feb 22 2021

How can we use the Wind?

An Oklahoma Sky

Finally the Sunrise!

Spring is back in town! After that 12 days of historic cold, it was nice to get back to my morning walk routine and see the sunrise. Some systems refer to the spring equinox as the sunrise of the year, and Imbolc as the growing glow on the pre-dawn horizon. That makes logical sense to me, but I love watching the sun rise during the Imbolc season. The golden sun melts down bare tree limbs and across the last of the autumn’s grasses just as spring slowly spreads across the land. This week we’ll reach the midpoint between Imbolc and the Equinox. The sunrise seems to pick up speed with each day closer to its eastern center on the horizon. The winds also seem to pick up speed at this time of year, so let’s talk about the magic of the Okie Wind.

Wind lore around the world seems to me heavily influenced by whether a culture is coastal or more desert, and of course sailors and, more recently, pilots may have their own relationship to wind. Hippocrates had much to say on how wind affects health, some winds bringing disease and others relief.  Some animist traditions have names for different wind spirits. My OBOD druid tradition treats air as the element of the east, intellect, and clarity, represented by the hawk. Other traditions place the air element differently and may have a different relationship with air. In Oklahoma, our winds predominantly blow north and south assisted by the northerly or southerly wobble of the jet stream. An excessively exciting jet stream plunge to the south was responsible for bringing those 12 days of subfreezing temps all the way from the artic into Texas last week. The jet stream is more typically the cause of our rollercoaster weather, making Imbolc a time of rotating warm and cold, north and south winds, which become more southerly as we ease past the equinox into April.

How can we use this magically? Modern witchcraft makes use of moon phases. The wind has its own energy and its own, less predictable cycles. The north wind might blow in cold winter weather or lovely, cooling summer rain. The south wind may drive back the winter or fill the sky with orange dust from New Mexico and spread wildfire. Sometimes the south wind blows in spring thunderstorms and refreshing north wind marks their passing. The winds’ moods and energies are as varied as the weather itself and they are as strong and influential here as the sea is to the coasts. The sky is our sea. But unlike the stories and songs of the sea, there is no source to consult about the magic of Oklahoma wind. We have to rely on intuition. Different traditions use moon phases differently, some using the full moon for manifestation and others for clearing. The wind also has differing effects on people. The same wind may blow hope and vitality for one person, and cleansing or endings for another. While we can know moon phases by consulting a calendar without ever looking at the sky, wind energies are felt. We feel the wind on our skin and its moods in our spirit. How can you use the powerful Oklahoma wind in your own practice?

February sunrise on winter-ravaged cottonwoods

Okie Wheel of the Year: Feb 15, 2021

Experiencing Imbolc in Oklahoma

Blooming Daffodils Feb 12 2017

"All the land is wrapped in winter.
The air is chilled and frost envelopes the Earth.
But Lord of the Sun,
Horned one of animals and wild places,
Unseen you have been reborn
of the gracious Mother Goddess,
Lady of fertility.
Hail Great God!
Hail and welcome!"
Wicca A Guide For The Solitary Practitioner(pages 130 - 131) by Scott Cunningham

bare feet in hammock Feb 11 2017

Oklahoma's average high temp in February is 55 degrees (F), with days reaching nearly 70 as frequent as days dipping closer to 32. On Feb 11, 2017, Oklahoma City hit 88 degrees and a record high was set in the west when Magnum recorded 99 degrees. In February! Add that to the fact that February is our second-driest month on average, right behind January, and it is easy to see how most years in Oklahoma it can be difficult to connect with the picture of Imbolc described in the words of Scott Cunningham above.  In 2021, we're already a week into sub-freezing temps and a historic winter storm that still has more snow to drop, and I can understand a little better how our northern European friends experience Imbolc.

This year's druid grove Imbolc ritual on Jan 30 had much the same weather as always: the sun shone, the wind blew, we were able to have the ritual outdoors even though we always prepare to hold it indoors in case of inclement weather. Plague precautions aside, everything went as usual. We called to Brigid "Come back, Lady, and bring the Spring!", and it felt as if she already had. In past years Imbolc has been the beginning of Outdoor Adventures Season for me. We've gone hiking near Quartz Mountain, Salt Plains National Wildlife Refuge, amd even Turner Falls. When the sun returns I'm eager to go out and play before the insects return. Some of my favorite camping trips have been in February. In warm, wet years, the forsythia blooms and asparagus emerges in February, and plum and peach blossoms aren't far behind. The redbuds might bloom before the equinox.

This has been Imbolc for me: instead of a blanket of snow, a blanket of last season's pale grass, instead of delicate green and white snowdrop flowers, sunny yellow daffodils and forsythia, instead of the last furious gasp of Cailleach Bheur, Queen of Winter, a rollercoaster of wind and wild temp swings as the Spring gets wound up for storm season. Not so much this year. I've found myself staring blankly at snow through the window, barely comprehending the numbers on the outdoor thermometer. With all my usual plans derailed, I have time to sit with the idea that this is how a large percentage of the northern hemisphere experiences Imbolc. All those poems that I skimmed because they didn't fit with what I see out my window begin to resonate. I've done all I can to prepare for yet another kind of natural disaster. Now I can slow my excited energy and sit with spring in a way not normally accessible to me. May we all survive the cold. Come back, Lady, and bring the Spring!

Snowy Cedars Feb 15 2021

Okie Wheel of the Year: Feb 8, 2021

OK Mesonet's Braum's Def-Con Ice Meter

Imbolc is a season of fire and ice in Oklahoma. Today, the fire of Brigid makes way for ice. Freezing fog and drizzle led to horrendous multi-car pileups during morning rush hour traffic in Oklahoma City, while the northern and western parts of the state are at “Go Ahead, Make My Day” on the OK Mesonet “Braums Emergency Def-Con Meter”. OK Mesonet is one of my favorite nerdy weather resources. The mesonet is a series of weather information collection towers around the state at much finer detail in space and time than other resources. The Oklahoma Climatological Survey processes the data. Together they offer many kinds of services to meteorological, agricultural, and other industries, and most importantly for me, much of this information is available online! There are graphs of averages over time that I look at when thinking about the Okie Wheel of the Year. There is current data about soil moisture and weather conditions useful for gardening. My favorite is The Ticker. The Ticker "where hot air means more than temperature" mixes detailed weather analysis with good ol’ Okie humor. This is my preferred way to get weather forecast information!

Another type of information available from the Mesonet is about fire danger. This is useful to those planning prescribed burns or managing wildfires, but it’s also useful to me when I’m deciding whether to center my ritual around a burning fire pit, jarred candles, or maybe just stick to smoke and water. Y’all know that wind can change fast and conditions outside your window might not be the same as those out at the lake. During Imbolc the golden grass of autumn gets whiter and more brittle right before the new greenery takes over, and the wind begins the process of whipping itself up to spring speeds. The moment sun hits mud, fire danger can go within hours from Low to Extremely High. This is where we are right now: fire danger is low, but freezing drizzle and a snowflake doesn’t bring much moisture. If the warmer air comes back at high speed we could have fire.

Here I sit, belly full of fresh Irish soda bread, watching ice form on the tips of the redbuds, staring down the barrel of a potentially record-breaking cold snap. Oklahoma’s winter wheat fields sit, full of more soil moisture that usual this time of year, in that mystical (to me) stage where cattle can graze the fields after planting but before jointing. The crop is reportedly doing well, and so am I. This sounds like a good time to remember the lessons I learned from the dark stillness of Yule. Nothing left to do but wait out this season of fire and ice.

Rose Rocks and the Kayax

Long ago, there lived in the land giants known as Kayax. We don’t know how many of them there were exactly, maybe three, maybe more. They were here before humans and even before trees, so the stories we do have are told by the cicadas and birds, redcedars, rivers, and stones, as passed down to them from their grandfathers. Stories tell that the Kayax generally keep to themselves because they like to arrange the land exactly to their own liking, and no two like it exactly the same. They spend their days carrying rocks, stirring the wind, and sifting the rains organizing everything just so. One such Kayax lived in the hills just east of here during a time when a sea stretched all the way almost to her door. The dry land was rocky with ferns and grandfathers of redcedar, but it had not ever seen grass yet nor even a flower. The Kayax piled up their gray rocks into the eastern hills and carved the creeks in the west to keep the high tide’s red mud in its orderly places. One day, a sea giant swam in with the tide and saw the Kayax on the shore. He was shy and unused to talking to the land-dwellers, so he watched from behind a distant wave. He watched her for days upon days, never getting the nerve to interfere, and in her focus she never noticed him off in the water. He admired her dedication and her hard work and eventually fell in love. Not knowing how to get her attention, he decided to leave her a gift. He went deep into the red mud at the bottom of the sea and created the first Rose Rock. He snuck up near the shore at high tide and left it for her.

When the Kayax came, they immediately noticed there was a rock where they had not put a rock. It was small, and curiously shaped. No one had ever seen any flower before, much less a rose, so this rock was especially interesting. They picked it up carefully, squeezed it a little, shook it a little, tasted it a little (all solid geological investigation methods still used today), and tried to decide where it needed to be. Tucking it into an apron pocket, they went back to work carving a nearby creek and thinking about the curious rock. The sea giant watched all this and was delighted that she seemed to like his gift. So he began making more. He left them here and there, under the moonlight just a giant’s arm’s reach up the shoreline. The Kayax gathered them up one by one, but piled them in a secret storeroom because their odd shape and curious properties made them stand out awkwardly in her rock arrangements.

The Kayax never noticed the Sea Giant. He made thousands upon thousands of gifts, but the Kayax never cast their eyes out to sea to wonder where they came from. Eventually the waters themselves decided to concede the land to the Kayax’s arrangement and the Lonely Sea Giant slowly sought his friendship elsewhere. As the waters receded, the drying mud began to crack. Larger and larger cracks along the former seabed. With more land to hand, the Kayax had more work to do and, still not knowing what to make of the Rose Rocks, she began using them to fill in some of the cracks, and sealing them in with red sand. Eventually the Kayax forgot about them all together. And that’s why, today, if you search in the right places you might still be able to uncover these mysterious gifts from a lonely sea giant.

Okie Wheel of the Year: Feb 1, 2021

Frosty Tallgrass at Imbolc Sunrise

Happy Imbolc/St. Brigid’s Day!

Imbolc and Lughnasadh are the seasons that inspired me to really explore how the Wheel of the Year works in Oklahoma. Today, pictures of snowdrop flowers with their bright green leaves and drooping white heads, will fill the internet with messages of welcoming spring. But when I step onto my front porch I see nothing of the sort. I don’t think I’ve ever seen real-live snowdrops. This morning, the yellowed tops of resilient tallgrass were covered in thick frost sparkling in the morning sun. Every year, one of my daffodils blooms well before the others poke buds out of the ground, and it always freezes. It is the sign that we have at least one more hard freeze left, but then spring will be on it’s way.

Frozen Early Daffodil

These are the things I see outside this time of year. There is so much more to know about our seasons.  The wheel of the year is solar, but also partly based on agricultural seasons and seasonal weather cycles. I am not a farmer. I might plant a garden, and I do get to see lambs and kids as I drive by neighboring fields sometimes, but otherwise I am disconnected from our agricultural cycles. Luckily, even farmers are on the internet! The Oklahoma Farm Report has data and news relevant to the entire state’s agricultural industry. Market reports and legislative news can be tedious reading, but glancing through summaries gives a picture of how the seasons, weather, climate, and land interact and affect our crops and the lives of those who work them. There are also articles about work our state’s farmers and ranchers do in conservation, research, advocacy, and education. Farmers are sometimes seen as the enemy of those working for environmental protection and climate crisis, but Oklahoma’s farmers have intimate knowledge of these issues.

This is the first installment of a weekly series on the Okie Wheel of the Year. I’ll be introducing sources of information and noting seasonal changes to get a more broad picture than we can see outside our own front doors. The Oklahoma Farm Report top news headlines over the past week say everyone has their eyes on hay stores, the status of wheat fields, cotton and soybean sales, and looking forward to spring calving.

The beginning of a month means data gatherers release monthly summaries.  Mesonet summaries tell us that January averaged a tiny bit wetter than unusual, and drought conditions eased up in the west. They predict a slightly cool but average wet February.  But there are predictions of a drier March and April with increased wildfire danger. This means that right now conditions are good for slowly watching as greenery peeks out from beneath the yellow grasses, but don’t pack up the sweaters yet. As we plan our gardens, be aware that a dry spring means extra watering.

This cold season is also a good time to think about mental health. Issues like low sunlight, isolation and loneliness of winter, anxieties for the future affect us all this time of year. Farming communities also recognize the need for resources such as the Plains Cotton Cooperative Association's Farm Stress-Help and Hope program.  

I can't wait to see what next week brings!

Rose Rocks!

bunch of tiny rose rocks

Before dinosaurs existed, when all the continents were one giant continent called Pangea, the west half of what would be Oklahoma was covered by sea. Amphibians, fish, the ancestors of future reptiles and mammals, the coniferous ancestors of our ever-present Eastern Redcedar and our summertime friends the cicadas evolved during this era. As the waters rolled in and out, they laid down the sediment that would become the red rocks we love today. Geologists call this the Permian period. This period ended with the greatest extinction level event on earth. Science doesn't yet know what caused it, but the face of the earth also underwent dramatic changes. The waters of the sea here receded, cracks formed in the land, and in a small isolated band near the edge of where the red beds of central and western Oklahoma meet the Sandstone hills that stretch east, ground water seeped into the cracks and precipitated out barite, quartz, and hematite in a unique shape.

Permian Red Beds at Lake Draper

Scientists don't know when rose rocks began to form, or whether the process ended or is still ongoing. They also aren't certain what causes the "rose" shape. Barite crystals forming around quartz sand make the petal shape, but barite normally doesn't form rounded edges seen in rose rocks. If they formed as expected, the petals would be more square shaped, like some kind of Minecraft flower. This shape of barite crystal occurs in few places on earth, and most of them form a white-ish rose as they lack the hematite present in Oklahoma's Rose Rocks. There are only a couple other places on earth where you might find red rose rocks - next door in Kansas, and in Australia. Oklahoma's Rose Rocks really are unique.

Cluster of barite petals, baby rose rocks

But they are neither economically or scientifically important in the sense that no one wants to spend the big bucks to study them and answer the questions of their formation. Most Rose Rock deposits are on private land and there is little incentive to make them available to the public. It is possible to acquire a rose rock if you know where to look or shop. Small ones aren't expensive to purchase. But they are rare enough that few who work with crystals have studied them.

A quick internet search reveals that most mentions of "rose rock" in crystal lists refer to a white selenite rock formation and not the barite of Rose Rocks. I'm no crystal worker, but common conceptions seem to say barite is good for opening the crown chakra and facilitates meditation and journeying. Quartz, is, well, quartz. Good for storing power and doing all the things. Hematite is grounding. Seems to me it might be interesting to experiment with using Rose Rocks in journeying to see how the tiny bit of grounding influences it. Sympathetic magic might also suggest using Rose Rocks in similar situations where one might use red roses.

teeny rose rock

To sum up, not only does science not fully understand our rare and unique rose rocks, but little is written about them magically either. Magical Okies, do your things and let us know! Nobody else is gonna do it for us.

barite deposits not quite formed into roses.

Podcast Episode 1

Looks like we've got ourselves a podcast.  I want to know about how other people experience Oklahoma as a magical place and live their magical lives here, so I thought I would ask them and record it for you.  The best way to begin a venture is just to begin.  Nobody is gonna call me a perfectionist with this one.  But Happy Imbolc, we have a podcast!   Hopefully soon you'll be able to listen in your fav podcast app.  For now, go on over to untykey.buzzsprout.com and have a listen!

Here are some show notes:

Welcome to Episode 1, wherein your Unty Key awkwardly tells you who they are. where this ride might take us, and what exactly their intentions toward you are. We talk what it means to be magical in Oklahoma, what the land means to us, and the wonder and challenges of living the magical life here. Key is joined by Vyvyan Wormwood (vyvyanwormwood.wordpress.com) and Shanda McDonald, both members of the Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids (druidry.org) and the Oklahoma OBOD Grove Circle of the Six-Fold Path.

Notes: the book mentioned is Land, Wood, and Water by Robert S. Kerr, published in 1960.
Also, I straight up stole the question "Is druidry something you do or something you are?" from OBOD Chosen Chief Eimear Burke's Fireside Chats. Erm. Sorry. She won't hear this. It's cool.

Getting to know Lake Stanley Draper

Lake Stanley Draper in January

If you’ve spent a day out at any lake in Oklahoma, it was at one of the over 200 man-made lakes mostly created in the last 50-100 years. Our natural water systems wax and wane through the wet and dry seasons of the year. This makes for uncertain living conditions for humans. Lake Stanley Draper is a reservoir serving Oklahoma City. Since 20% of the state’s human population lives in Oklahoma County, that’s a whole lot of people who depend on this water. Lake building is an inherently controversial and destructive process, with land and water rights disputes, human displacement, and ecosystem disruption. But whatever healing may be needed from the creation of a lake isn’t the lake’s fault. We can honor both the damage done in the past and the beauty of what exists today.

Lake Draper in the CrossTimbers

This particular lake is protected from seasonal dry spells by water pipelines from southeastern
Oklahoma, so the water in the lake is a mixture of pumped in water from the SE and local rainfall. It sits in Cleveland County, east of Moore and south of Midwest city off I-240 in the Cross Timbers ecoregion. The Cross Timbers is a transitional region where the forests of the east meet the prairies of the west. In Celtic mythologies, liminal, in-between spaces such as the seashore are especially magical places. I personally believe that the Cross Timbers has a particular liminal quality itself. Add to that the blending of two waters in Lake Stanley Draper and standing on those shores is sure to have a special energy of its own. All you magical people out there... do your respective things and let the rest of us know what you find! No one is gonna write this stuff down for us. We have to find it ourselves.

A tiny Rose Rock

Some other magical items of note: Lake Stanley Draper is one of the few places in the entire world where you can hunt for Rose Rocks. Stay tuned for a whole post on Rose Rocks. The Oklahoma City Audubon Society has a whole list of bird species seen in the area including just about any bird of myth you can see here such as hawks, herons, loons, doves, and owls. The Oklahoma Water Resources Board worked with the Environmental Protection Agency to improve the water quality and fish and wildlife habitat by bringing appropriate wetland plant species to the area.

Also, naming is an act of power so who is Stanley Draper? He came to Oklahoma in 1919 after serving in WWI, and began a long career with the Oklahoma City Chamber of Commerce. He was involved in many projects that give the metro area their character today such as bringing in Tinker Air Force Base and the FAA, building the Civic Center, and the Lake Hefner Reservoir as well as the one named in his honor. I have no idea what kind of person he was or whether we would approve of each other’s philosophies, but he seems to have dedicated his life to his idea of prosperity for Oklahoma City and her people. That is an idea I can get behind even if my version might look different than his.

I can drink to prosperity. Cheers, Mr. Draper.

An Offering for the Lake

The Birth of a Goddess - Brita of the Clean Water!

Goddess Brita by artist Cary Stringfield

Two days after the September full moon, you might have felt something shifting: the hint of humidity on your skin, the scent of rain, an almost inaudible tinkling giggle, a sudden desire for a cool drink of water. These were the first stirrings of a new goddess being born into the world: Brita, Goddess of Clean Water.

Brita’s Past

She was conceived in The Before Times – the pre-pandemic months of 2020 – when a diverse group of spiritual seekers gathered at the Labyrinth Temple in Oklahoma City for an American Gods-inspired exploration of how gods of the past relate to our current age. While springs and wells were immensely important to the survival of pre-modern peoples around the world and their spiritual and magical significance is easy to understand historically, they are not part of our everyday experience now. Even though I have well water at my home, my experience of the well is much different and perhaps less personal than that of pre-modern peoples. Water itself, however, remains just as critical as ever. And so we pondered what a goddess of clean water might be like if she appeared today.

The name Brita of the Filtered Water was suggested. There was giggling – a giggling of humor, of possibility, of true intentions of hope for places like Flint, Michigan, neglected Reservations, foreign countries, our own friends & neighbors. A giggle of conception. Everyone giggled that night. Even Brita.

Brita’s Present

Friday, September 4th, Brita was invoked in her own ritual. “Hold up,” you might say, “can you even *do* that? Who says you can have a new goddess at all?” There are some schools of thought that say it is possible. There are some that say it isn’t. I’m not here to promote any particular beliefs or metaphysics. I’m here to say that this whole process from re-imagining deities to performing a ritual for Brita was a useful and powerful experience for those involved.

This water healing ritual was designed by Priestess Emmah Eastwind of the Labyrinth Temple for the September Full Moon. We gathered in our masks and carefully spaced chairs inside the labyrinth as dusk deepened into night. We honored the quarters with cups of water and Sarah Sage invoked the Goddess in her own words:

“Child of the Fresh Waters! We welcome a new North American Goddess to our circle. Brita, we name you!

Granddaughter of ancient Sumerian God of freshwater, Apsû—primordial, the first, the begetter.

Daughter of Atabey, Caribbean Goddess of earth, fresh water, and fertility – she who represents the Earth Spirit and the Spirit of all horizontal water, lakes, streams, the sea, and the marine tides.

Brita, Pride of her Ancestors, purified by the Earth, flowing clean and clear through charcoal – maker of diamonds. She, too, is precious like the gemstone – shimmering, sheer delight. She blesses us, washes away negativity, freshens, and refreshes us inside and out. We splash and play, celebrating her youthful babbling. We thank you, Brita for joining us in circle tonight.

Merry Meet, Brita!”

Each person approached Brita in the center to receive healing by washing their hands in a poured stream of filtered water while the rest were led in chant by Emmah, haltingly at first as befits the birth pangs of a goddess, but strong and clear when the last person finished.

“Brita of pure, clean water
Wash us and we shall renew
Aid our healing, ease our cares
Strengthen each of us anew”

Some people felt calmed by the experience, some loved, some invigorated. Each received what they needed. It was… magical.

Brita at the Labyrinth Temple

Brita’s Future

The image of Brita created by Cary Stringfield sits on the altar at the Temple. We can honor her by approaching the clean water we have with gratitude and not taking it for granted, or by donating to organizations dedicated to increasing access to clean water on this continent or around the world, or by contributing to political action in places where clean water is threatened or unavailable. Or perhaps we can honor her in smaller ways like keeping our ice maker free of mold and cleaning or changing what water filters we use. She is a goddess of the 21st century so invent new ways to honor her! Thank a water treatment facility employee. Make a blog post. She is currently a child goddess, spritely and fun-loving. Play in your bathwater. Dedicate bubbles to her. 😀

Who knows what her future holds. Will we still honor her in 5 years? Will she be remembered in 50 years? 500? Whether she is still honored as Brita or returns in another form through whatever fates affect goddesses, water will continue to be integral to our survival.

So for now, HAIL BRITA!

How Can I Connect with the Land?

I frequently see posts online from "Baby Witches" or "I'm new to all this" asking for simple ways to begin a practice.  I wondered if I could break down my years of druid training and experience as a lifetime Okie to distill parts of my own practice that I use to keep me connected to this land. The information in this post is specifically written for someone who has no experience with ritual or is just beginning to think about what it means to feel a connection to a land, place, or nature. This is based on what I actually do in my everyday practice.

First I will lay out the instructions, then there is a bit of explanation and metaphysics. For the more experienced practitioner who is new to Oklahoma, the ritual described is generic enough to be used anywhere but it also has specific meaning for me in this particular place. I may write more about why in a future post. For the experienced practitioner who wants to check on what I'm peddling to the innocent... welcome. I hope I don't disappoint. :)

The simplest of simple ways to magically connect to the land:

1. Greet the first tree or bush you see when you step out of your home. Do it every time you leave, or at least once a day. “Good morning, Tree!” or “Hello, bush! I like your flowers. Have a nice day!”
2. A tiny ritual:
1. Need one ritual item (for example a lit candle, incense, container of water, can of beer, pumpkin spice latte, etc. Something you can easily and safely carry)
2. Find the directions (north, south, east, west)
3. Face east. Raise your ritual item. Say “I honor the Wind which blows across the land.”
4. Face South. Raise your ritual item. Say “I honor the Sun which shines on the land.”
5. Face West. Raise your ritual item. Say “I honor the Rains which fall on the land.”
6. Face North. Raise your ritual item. Say “I honor the Land beneath my feet.”
7. Face east again to blow out the candle or say a closing word like “Blessed Be” (“Amen”, “Cheers” etc)
3.  The third simple way is to honor the things you may already be doing as the magical acts they are. Watching the sun during your work commute, giddy excitement when it rains, bringing in a fallen leaf or found feather, watching a spider weave, listening to crickets and cicadas, whatever fills you with joy or longing is a magical act. How you personally can best focus or make conscious use of that might be a life-long search. :)

There are many metaphysical theories and spiritual tradition descriptions of the whys and hows of human communication with the non-human. But the basic idea of why #1 above is a useful magical act is that your human brain, by years of training, processes communication through spoken language. Even if you don’t actually say the words out loud, thinking them still consciously engages your ability to communicate with the tree on whatever level you believe it can hear you. A process is begun, a connection is made, a thread of fate spins out that will weave into your unique life.

I am an animist by inclination and training. I see many parts of the natural world, like the trees and bushes of our everyday lives, as interested in being treated as neighbors and friends. I talk to them as I would a human person. But I also see them has having, although maybe different, just as varied a range of emotions and personalities as human people. This means that if you get a strong feeling that a tree doesn’t want you to say good morning to it, trust that instinct. Maybe it isn’t into you for whatever reason and you can greet the second tree you see. Maybe it’s just surprised or cranky, though, so it isn’t necessary to be afraid, just respectful. When I first moved to my home I discovered an old redbud tree tucked away in a perfect corner for meditating. I sat in the peaceful shade many times but I just kept getting feelings that it was cranky and crotchety and wasn’t sure it liked me. Occasionally the moment I arrived I would be beset by a horsefly or mosquitos and I just respectfully said “ok, sorry, I’ll go someplace else today.” That tree and I are old friends now but his corner of the yard is still one I only use rarely and for specific work. There is a pecan tree on the other side of the yard that is much more open to my shenanigans. Trust your gut feelings about the attitude of your trees, but don’t take them personally.

This tiny ritual is the most basic description of what I added to the globally practiced OBOD teachings to connect them to my own land. My starting point was asking how not having an ocean makes my relationship to water different from, say, someone living in Ireland. Thanks to the jet stream, dry line, and terrain, storms generally move across this state from west to east. The importance of rain in Oklahoma is probably something you don’t need me to explain. So, in the west, where my tradition honors the element of water, I honor the rain which falls upon the land. That is one example of how this almost ridiculously simple seeming ritual has deeper meaning for me and how I connect to the land of Oklahoma.

This ritual can be elaborated or inserted into any ritual structure. You can cast a circle if you wish or add things at the beginning or end. When I do ritual for myself, I add these into my calling of the quarters. You can change “honor” to “greet”, which I sometimes do in the morning, or “thank” as I sometimes do at the end of a rite or the day. I might do this basic simple ritual by itself with only an intentional prayer added at the end if I am quickly prepping my house for a party, or planting a new garden bed, or sometimes just because it feels right. Sometimes I share beer with the land. To do so, I might use a bottle of beer in the ritual and after the “I honor…” statement say “Please accept this drink in friendship” then take one swig and pour one out. When I’m getting ready for a special day in my life, I might lift my coffee mug and “toast to” the quarters. I may also face center at the end and honor ancestors, or guides and guardians, or whomever I’m thinking about or working with at the moment. To signal the end of the ritual, I usually say something to indicate that it is over. My tradition has some common “end of ritual” wording that I like and so use, but anything that seems appropriate to you will work. Roman Catholic mass has several types of endings such as my favorite “I leave you peace. My peace I give you. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.” I have occasionally adapted this for my own use. Bottom line is, to do this tiny ritual you don’t need to add anything for it to open your connection to this land, but it is a living ritual can be improvised from the heart.

Sometimes when we are first starting out we want to get everything *right*. There is no ancient tradition of connecting to the lands of Oklahoma to be found in a book or a website with explicit instructions. So this ritual came out of my own experience and practice. I am always experimenting with it. I wrote it. Now you have it. If you are the type of person who needs someone to grant them permission to trust their own intuition, intellect, and heart, who isn’t sure if it is ok to try something out and reject it and try something different: Here is your permission. *plop* One permission. Reusable.

I leave you permission, my permission I give you. Go in permission to create and connect with this land! 💚