Tag: halloween

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All Hallow’s Eve   In the dark of the night, ‘neath the full of the moon, Events are unfolding, and will begin soon.
As wisps of Oiche Shamhna fog begin rising
Wee forms venture out to begin on their guising.   The memories of Samhain were brought to this shore By ancestors forced out in An Gorta Mor.
The depth of the hunger had caused them to roam,
 Bringing with them, old customs and rituals from home.   ‘Tis the night when the threshold twixt worlds does... Read More

Haloween repost from 2008. Oiche Shamhna
Young voices I hear now from down in the street,
And the pitter and patter of many small feet.
The night is so still, bright stars light the night sky,
As across the moon’s face on Matilda I fly. The doors of Old Vickie were left open wide
Bambrack and drink, are set to one side.
On the stoop sits a flickering lantern of neep,
Throughout all the long night, a vigil to keep. As near to the house of the witch, children roam
The li... Read More

This is a blog that I posted in 2008. I am posting it again for newer readers, and because it's halloween again, and in memory of my Lyn.   I don’t do Halloween. It didn’t feature in our childhood. We had heard of it, but it was about as remote from our lives as the ancient stinkpots of Greece, but they’re another story. The New Zealand I grew up in was a pleasantly quiet country with very little crime and strict rules of behaviour and etiquette, and we got our celebration days from... Read More

I am a little horrified, & greatly saddened by a story about killing bats. We are loosing our precious bats at an alarming rate. Just opening the window, turn the lights off, & close the door & the bat will fly out. Bats are way more afraid of you than you are of them. So once outside will not come back again. A different bat may come back in again, but again, only once, they can't handle the commotion. They are gentle creatures that crave peace & quiet. You may want to... Read More

  Oiche Shamhna   Young voices I hear now from down in the street,
And the pitter and patter of many small feet. The night is so still, bright stars light the night sky,
As across the moon’s face on Matilda I fly.   The doors of Old Vickie were left open wide
Bambrack and drink, are set to one side.
On the stoop sits a flickering lantern of neep,
Throughout all the long night, a vigil to keep.   As near to the house of the witch, children roam The lights may... Read More

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