holly

i love the romance of the winter season.

its many and varied traditions.

i treasure

the chance to know

once more

the associations i have

with the warmth

of family

and friends

both here and gone.

i love the incidental immersion in

the wealth of colours

the decorations,

the lights,

and of course the candles.

then there is the food.

all rich

in my imagining.

richer in my remembering.

but it's the small joys

like sugared figs,

mandarin oranges in a wooden box,

and chocolate covered ginger

that dance across

my most treasured experiences of christmas treats.

strangely the most powerful

symbolic connection i make to christmas

is through holly.

i have no explanation for this

as holly is not a part of my family tradition

but it sits in the centre of my associations.

the holly.

deep green leaves.

rich red berries,

glistening

blood red

and ripe.

in olden times,

holly was gathered on carts

and brought to the village or town market.

holly has a natural history,

and most especially,

it holds a place

in between worlds:

"the holly king reigns over the dark half of the year when the days grow shorter.

he ascends the throne after the ritual sacrifice of the oak king on the midsummer fires.

in a neverending cycle of life, death, and rebirth, the holly king is himself sacrificed at the winter solstice, to make way once more for the king of the light half of the year.

the oak and holly kings are dual aspects of the guardian god of nature,

who in some traditions is also known as the corn god.

their combined role is to protect, court, and make love with the earth goddess,

thus ensuring the fruitfulness of the land.

together they are responsible for carrying the green life force of nature through the year."

from "the wisdom of trees: mysteries, magic, and medicine" by jane gifford