Ever wonder what it's all about? I need to try and work it out. I'll just begin with the deer.
This is about what and who and where strength comes from.
They say we should eat goose cooked with blackberries today. It is Michaelmas.
Do you feel the stilling of the heat of the air, the soft cooling into autumn, or fall? I love this time. You can walk easily, not too cold, not too hot, just comfortable. A time when harvest is done, and hibernation in the winter of work or studies beckons.
Traditionally all debts would be paid now, with the earnings of the summer months, and fruits would have been gathered. The last of the blackberries can be eaten tonight. They're starting to be squishy and mouldy on the bushes. From tomorrow it will be bad luck to touch them.
It is the feast of St Michael and all the Angels.
There are so few flowers left at this end of the year, near the autumn equinox, that this little song is sung, at least in Scotland: "The Michaelmas daisies, among dead weeds, Bloom for St Michael's valorous deeds.'
The Archangel Michael, greatest among the angels, defeated Satan in the war in heaven. The great angelic warrior, with Archangels Gabriel and Raphael, and often Uriel, are celebrated today in the fierce and heavenly forms, not sitting about with flute and harp on fluffy white clouds, but as Warrior Angels, vigilant, dedicated, ever present.
I grew up with Michael the Archangel, his picture, and a more personal story. On this day every year at my school they told the tale of how, at a time when Catholicism was banned and punishable by death, St Michael appeared at the door of the house, blocking the soldiers from coming in. It was always told simply, with sombre gratitude.
It was decades before I realised that the women who told me this were speaking of something from four hundred years ago, and not exactly their own experience. By then, I had recovered from the shock of logic, and was aware once again of the interconnectedness of all things, and of the ownership of a heritage of miracles.
Why wouldn't Michael do that? I think he did.
As the days grow shorter in our northern hemisphere, it feels necessary to remember Michael, the protector against the darkness of the night.
The administrator of cosmic intelligence.
This is a friend to seek out. He has vanquished evil. He has not gone away. The Warrior Angel.
The little purple aster flowers that grow in crevices, self-seeding in the red brick walls and cracks in the pavement, and in the dust at the bottom of the wall, named for the archangel and for the stars, so bright, so sweet, so undemanding, are there as they have always been. I will eat the last blackberry and be thankful.
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A michaelmas daisy I saw last year.
For an absolutely brilliant read of exquisite writing on the ages of the angels go to @atum7574 https://www.wattpad.com/18020385-angel-war-by-philip-dodd : Angel War . Scroll down to the very last book in his list of works. Bring a cup of tea, and settle in for a breathtaking read. It reached the final twelve in The Wishing Shelf Book Independent Book Awards , attracting international attention.
