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The little cloud who wouldn’t rain

Once upon a time there was a cloud. She wasn’t a big cloud and she wasn’t really a small cloud. She was a nice medium cloud who lived in a herd of clouds. Cloud had a problem or at least the other clouds thought so. Cloud wouldn’t rain. Day after day cloud went along in the herd of clouds and while the other clouds were dropping their rain and throwing thunder and lightning at each other in their day games, Cloud would not.

This made the Head Cloud very angry. Cloud was not doing what she was supposed to do. This was not right or good. All his clouds should behave themselves and not make trouble. So he went to Cloud.

“Cloud, what’s our job?” he asked.

“To rain where it is needed and wanted.’ Replied Cloud calmly.

“NNNNNNNNOOOOOO!” thundered the Head Cloud. “We rain when we hit a mountain range. We rain when we group together and we rain when I say so!” The Head Cloud moved ponderously away looking blacker every moment.

Cloud had a feeling there was a really big storm coming but it really didn’t matter because she wasn’t going to rain here and he could yell all he wanted. “We rained here yesterday and they don’t need it here. It rained too much as it was and people were still cleaning up.”

They had rudely gotten shoved up against a mountain by a Hurricane and that made the Head Cloud mad so he rained and he had rained hard. Cloud thought they should only rain when and where it was needed but she was the only one that thought that way and sometimes that was lonely. She thought if she could just get over the mountain where it almost never rained she would do it but she would have to break free and that was hard for a cloud. Clouds tend to stick together.
This continued on for many days. And the Head Cloud thundered at her more and more. He just couldn’t understand that she had to do it just right. But one day the Hurricane blew again and Cloud decided she would try and get to the edge ahead of the group. Maybe she could get away.

They were being pushed faster and faster and the cloud was getting heavier and heavier as she picked up moisture the closer she got to the front of the cloud bank. She… needed… to… hold…on…just … a …little… longer…. And with one final shove from the Hurricane and the bank of clouds behind her she was free and roaring down the other side of the mountain. “Whhhhhhhhhhheeeee!”.
She was freeeeeeeeeeeeee. Now what? The other side of the mountain was barren. No one seemed to live here. It was the perfect place to rain but something was happening. It was hot here and she was beginning to feel lighter. “Uh oh!” She needed to rain and she needed to rain now!
And she tried and she tried but she could feel the heat from below making the water leave her but she could hear a noise behind her. And it was getting louder so she looked back the way she had come and the cloud bank was coming over the mountain! And some of her friends were leading the way racing down the mountain to join her.

And the more the clouds came, the more cool it got and less water left the cloud. When they were finally all around her the cloud was happy. She had missed them and not even known it. The Head Cloud caught up with her.

“Now will you rain?” he roared. As he looked around at the sand and spindly cactus and a lone flock of sheep that if you looked just right looked an awful lot like those clouds.

“Yes!” and she started to rain. She rained on the desert that was so dry and she watched something happen below. It was magic. Almost immediately pools appeared and she saw a tortoise find it. And then in the blink of an eye flowers and grass appeared. This made the sheep happy and because it cooled the shepherd, he was happy too. The little cloud was ecstatic. This was how it was supposed to be. She decided no matter how the Head Cloud thundered at her, she was only going to rain where she was needed.   

And that is why on some spring days if you live in a desert you see one lone medium size cloud. She’s looking to go where she is needed but look quickly because the rest of the clouds might be right behind her.

The Littlest Druid celebrates Lughnasad

Once upon a time the Littlest Druid got an idea. She wanted to do something special for the feast of Lughnasadh. Her teacher had told them all about Lugh and his feast day. She knew it was a feast of thanksgiving to celebrate the first harvest of grain of the year. It had been a good long and warm summer so the corn and barley had grown strong and tall in the fields. That meant people would have bread for the year and ale to drink on cold winter nights.

 
Her teacher had told them about the Lugh, the long arm, whose face was as bright as the sun. She had told them he was a wright, a smith, a champion, a horseman, a hero. He was also a swordsman, a harpist, a poet, a historian, a craftsman and a sorcerer. She thought he might be kind of scary and she wasn’t good at anything.

 
Her teacher told them that at the feast all the adults would get up and share some creation that they had made that year to honour Lugh. Aisling decided she wanted to share something too, but what? She wouldn’t be old enough to share for a lot more years but she really wanted to. She was always messing up and she wanted to show the grown up Druids that she was good at something. She really wanted to do it for the Chief Druid. He was always so nice to her when he didn’t have to be. He could have sent her home long ago but he hadn’t. He truly believed she would be a good Druid some day. Aisling had no idea why he believed it but he had told her so on one of their many talks after she had messed up again… So Aisling decided to see what she could share.

 
She visited the spinners and weavers and asked to help but her thread was lumpy and rather grey looking when she was done. Not every good at all. The head Weaver kindly said she could use it to make burlap sacking and Aisling left the weaving barn.
Next she decided to observe the Smith from outside the Smithy. It was really interesting to watch him shoe the big horses but as the Smith was banging a horseshoe into shape a piece of hot iron flew off and landed all the way outside and on Aisling’s  bare foot. She went hopping and howling around for a few moments while the Smith howled himself with laughter. She decided she wasn’t cut out to be a Smith.

 
She went to the tanner and the leather workers but that barn just stunk so much. How did they stand it? They must have lost their senses of smell. Peeewwwwoooooeeeeee.

 
She went and listened to the Bards practice. She wouldn’t begin to study with them until next year so she was curious about what happened so she spied through the window in their cottage. Three of them were lying with their eyes closed and wrapped in sheep skins. She thought that looked rather hot in this summer weather. While she was sitting there a drowsy bee came along and Aisling swatted at it absentmindedly and got stung in her bum by the mad bumblebee. This woke up the drowsing Druids who were trying to compose their poems and all three of them ran out to chase her away.

 
By now she was getting desperate. She was never going to have anything to share and everyone would keep thinking she was bad at everything. She took herself off to the sheep field. She thought she’d talk to the sheep and the sheep dogs. She had become friends with the sheep after she had sat with them at Brighid and this was where she came now when she wanted to unload her burdens.

 
She trudged out to the pasture. She knew the Druid shepherds were probably napping in the sheep fold. They were older Druids who still liked to be useful but now needed an afternoon nap after lunch. They always told her they weren’t asleep when she woke them up accidently. They were just studying the wonderful colours inside their eyelids and getting ideas for art work. Aisling doubted this because there was snoring coming from the sheep fold and she never saw any sign of an art work back in the village.

 
She climbed the hill and sat next to her favourite mama ewe. The ewe came over and butted her gently and her lamb crawled into Aisling’s lap although it was getting a bit big for that.

 
“What am I going to do?” She said to the drowsing ewe and lamb. “I really want to show the Chief Druid I’m good at something. And I want a gift to offer at the feast tomorrow.” She sat hunched over in a dismal lump. She knew if she sat that way in class her teacher would tell her to sit up straight but out here there was no one but the ewe to tell her so, so she didn’t.

 

“You there! Sit up.”

 
Aisling sat bolt upright. Who was that? She looked around and from the west where the sun was beginning to set came the shape of a man. She couldn’t see him clearly because the sun was behind him. All she could see was his shape.

 
“Who are you?” asked Aisling as the man came and sat down beside her. He was tall with very golden hair and a smile that made Aisling want to smile.

 
“Why so glum?” The man asked. “Isn’t tonight the big feast? I would think you would be excited to celebrate the feast. I hear the sharing afterwards is going to be really good this year.” He picked up a piece of grass and started to use it as a whistle.

 
“I wanted to share this year. I wanted to do something for the Chief Druid.” Aisling said quietly, “but I’m not good at anything I try. I just make messes of things.”

 
“Well, this lamb seems to like you a lot and this ewe doesn’t seem to think you are bad at anything. She doesn’t usually make friends of people.”

 
“How do you know that?” Aisling asked suspiciously. Only two people knew why this sheep liked her and one was a goddess. Of course, he could have been a friend of the Chief Druid, he knew but she didn’t think he had told anyone.
”Can you sing?” asked the man.

 
“The teacher says I can but that I need to grow some.”

 
“Well then, let’s write you a song.” The man laughed like that was the easiest thing in the world but she had just seen the Bards and they hadn’t made it look easy. Aisling looked at him doubtfully. He was kind of muscle bound for one of the creative types but she’d seen stranger things like stones dancing so who knew?

 
He started to hum a really pretty tune with his blade of grass. “Hum that back to me.” The man said so she did.

 
“Very good. Now what do you want to say?”

 
“I wanted it to say thanks for all our blessings, for the clean air and the clean streams, for all the people who make our food. I want to say thanks for being alive and being able to dance and sing. I really want to say thank you.”

 
The man nodded, “All great things, how about this,” and the two of them sat together and wrote a thanksgiving song for her to sing. It was almost time for the feast and the man indicated with a nod toward the village that it was time to go. Aisling grabbed his hand and they walked toward the village. Aisling was so excited she had something to share that it didn’t occur to her she still didn’t know the man’s name.
Aisling walked into the banquet hall and everyone became quiet and stared. This made her panic. She was in her best tunic and trews and she knew she was still clean. Maybe she had a grass stain she didn’t know about. Then she realized they were staring at the man who was holding her hand.

 
“I came to celebrate with you. Is there room?” the man boomed into the banquet hall. The Chief Druid came over to them and made a place at the head table for both of them. Guests were always honoured so Aisling didn’t think it was that unusual. She couldn’t figure out why the Chief Druid hadn’t sent her to sit with her teacher but she knew he liked her and assumed she was there because she brought the guest.
The supper started and all the good smelling foods were brought out and everyone ate and forgot about the stranger Aisling had brought to dinner. They were enjoying the foods and their friends and the rewards of their labours.

 
Soon it was time for the sharing and the tables were put away and everyone made themselves comfortable. The stranger stood up.

 
“We have a sharing!” He brought out the blade of grass and pulled Aisling up beside him.

 
“Aisling and I have a song to share to thank you for this wonderful feast.”
He started the pretty tune and Aisling started to sing with her eyes closed the song that they had written together. She didn’t see him start to shine nor did she see the shock on the older Druids faces. She just sang her heart out until the end of the song and the tune stopped. She opened her eyes and looked up at her new friend and her mouth dropped open. She knew who he was now. She had brought Lugh to his own feast! She’d done it again!

 
Lugh looked down at her. “Never be afraid that being friendly or kind is a bad thing.”
Lugh marched to the center of the gathering and grabbed a horn full of new beer from an astonished Druid. He shouted, “Slainte’”, took a deep drink and walked out the door and disappeared.
Aisling sat down with a bump and looked at the Chief Druid. He looked down at her kindly, “You make friends of the most interesting people,” and just started to laugh as he hugged her. “You do just fine.”

Flameshift

Today is my regular Flameshift but since Di and I are flying to visit D & M we can always use the help.

Every day and every night that I say the geneology of Brighid
I shall not be killed
I shall not be harmed
I shall not be put into a cell
I shall not be wounded

No fire, no sun, no moon shall burn me
No lake, no water, no sea shall drown me.

For I am the child of Poetry,
Poetry, child of Reflection,
Reflection, child of Meditation,
Meditation, child of Lore,
Lore, child of Research,
Research, child of Great Knowledge,
Great Knowledge, child of Intelligence,
Intelligence, child of Comprehension,
Comprehension, child of Wisdom,
Wisdom, child of Brighid.
Carmina Gaedelica edited by Lunea Weatherstone

May my words be as considered as poetry,
May I reflect on all I do or say,
May I meditate on those things important spiritually
May I seek to know more of the lore
May I research what I am curious about and what will enable me to grow
May I seek to know great knowledge,
May I acknowledge the intelligence of others
May I comprehend what I seek to learn and apply those lessons
May I know that seeking wisdom is not the same as being wise.
May I be a child of Brighid.

SelfBlessing is by me

Brighid, bean-oirdheirc
Lasrach grad
Fetaim lasrach soillse
Thoir cuireadh sinne
ris a’ bheatha
mhaireannach`

Brighid, Sublime Woman
Quick flame
Long may you burn bright!
You give us the invitation
to life everlasting

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