With the first days of August we are ushered into the season of Ripening, of first Harvest. The Walnuts, Blackberries, and other fruits of hedgerow and meadow are ripe now, though the fields of corn and soybeans are still green and their harvest not yet begun.The seed heads of the prairie grasses swell beneath clear and ringing skies.
On the oak trees, clusters of young acorns show themselves green and firm. The days grow imperceptibly shorter, and though the days are often still heavy with summer humidity, the nights are cooler, and they resound with the voices of Katydids and other night-chirping insects.
The wild creatures are harvesting as well, and beginning the process of laying in stores for the fallow season ahead.
Here is the gate into the Harvest season when the grain will be cut and slain for our sustenance, of which a thousand ancient Mysteries speak. I also consider this season a time of celebration of human achievement, of that which through Art we have wrought from raw Nature. Thus, we hail not only the wheat, but bread as well. Not only do we give due honor to hops and grain and honey, but also beer and ale and mead. Not only do we offer to the dark loam, but to the turned furrow of the plow.
Hail the tide of Harvest, the turning of the Year. Hail the Ripening Summer, the Sickle and the Grain!