In the Christian world, today is Michaelmas, feast day of the archangel Michael, which was a very important day in times past, falling near the equinox and so marking the fast darkening of the days in the northern world, the boundary of what was and what is to be. Today was the end of the harvest and the time for farm folk to calculate how many animals they could afford to feed through the winter and which would be sold or slaughtered. It was the end of the fishing season, the beginning of hunting, the time to pick apples and make cider.
Today was a day for settling rents and accounts, which farmers often paid for with a brace of birds from the flocks hatched that spring. Geese were given to the poor and their plucked down sold for the filling of mattresses and pillows.
Michaelmas was the time of the traditional printer's celebration, the wayzgoose, the day on which printers broke from their work to form the last of their pulp into paper with which to cover their open windows against the coming cold — the original solution for those who could not afford glass yet had more than nothing — and the advent of days spent working by candlelight.
In the past, the traditional Michaelmas meal would have been a roast stubble goose — the large gray geese that many of us only get to admire at our local state and county fairs. Today, when most poultry comes from the grocery store in parts and wrapped in plastic, a roast goose can be a difficult luxury to obtain, but any homey, unfussy meal is a fine substitute — especially with a posy of Michaelmas daisies or purple asters on the table.
In folklore, it is said that when Michael cast the Devil from Heaven, the fallen angel landed on a patch of blackberry brambles and so returns this day every year to spit upon the plant that tortured him. For this reason, blackberries would not be eaten after today, and so folks would gather them in masses on Michaelmas to put into pies and crumbles and preserves. And they would bake St. Michael's bannocks, a large, flat scone of oats and barley and rye, baked on a hot griddle and then eaten with butter or honey or a pot of blackberry preserves.
Whether you recognize Michaelmas or not, you can still greet what comes with the symbols of today: gloves, for open-handedness and generosity; and ginger to keep you warm and well in the coming cold.
_________
Michaelmas is today, the border between the summer's swath of sun and the suddenly darkening days. I wonder if I have it in me to make a transition from season to season again, I who usually prefer darkness and candlelight to sun and sundials. I am so tired of mourning, so tired of every morning waking up by myself to wonder where Harvey is. (Even though I know where he is, I'm obsessed with where he isn't, which is next to me).
Do I burrow beneath quilts and coverlets, shroud myself in goosedown and duvet? Do I keep my windows open or paper them with drafts of my poems as I work toward ordering my manuscript?
Where are the new poems, and must they all be elegies? Do I have anything else about which to write? Gloves and ginger, and Satan's cuspidor, the blackberry, even jam on scones?
I who cannot afford [to look into the] glass but have more than nothing...I really want candlelight, or candlepower, or maybe just some sort of spark. It's been 1 year, 2 months, 2 weeks, 1 day, and I wish I were ready to stop feeling blighted. (Cue Radiohead song: "Creep").
And speaking of shadow, and light, and the desire for change, and also of Michael, here's a Michael whose birthday today is:
Convex mirror, ivory comb, facepowder and sponge...Vanity, order and disorder, conversion, convergence...and sisters.
Where are the new poems, and must they all be elegies? Do I have anything else about which to write? Gloves and ginger, and Satan's cuspidor, the blackberry, even jam on scones?
I who cannot afford [to look into the] glass but have more than nothing...I really want candlelight, or candlepower, or maybe just some sort of spark. It's been 1 year, 2 months, 2 weeks, 1 day, and I wish I were ready to stop feeling blighted. (Cue Radiohead song: "Creep").
And speaking of shadow, and light, and the desire for change, and also of Michael, here's a Michael whose birthday today is:
Convex mirror, ivory comb, facepowder and sponge...Vanity, order and disorder, conversion, convergence...and sisters.
