Happy May Day!

The month of May was come, when every lusty heart beginneth to blossom, and to bring forth fruit; for like as herbs and trees bring forth fruit and flourish in May, in likewise every lusty heart that is in any manner a lover, springeth and flourisheth in lusty deeds. For it giveth unto all lovers courage, that lusty month of May.

Sir Thomas Malory

Le Morte d'Arthur

So much going on as May begins! May Day, International Worker's Rights Day, Beltaine, Walpurgisnacht, and the beginning of Mary's month. Most importantly, however, the coming of May always feels to me like summer really will return. This little glimmer of hope is highly important, living in a part of the country where it can sometimes feel like we have only one season - the rainy one. But today spring's bright red tulips have faded making way for the first rose to bloom in the garden, the birdhouses on the front porch are filled with soft chirps, the sun is making ever more frequent appearances, and McMenamin's most amusing UFO Festival will soon kick off the summer festival season. (Ed. note: If you have never gone, you should, because where else can you see people walking around small town America in broad daylight donning tinfoil hats? It is worth every penny of the free admission!)

In this part of the world, May has begun with a flourish that has included Beltaine celebrations, poetry writing, early Cinco de Mayo luncheons, and a riveting reading group discussion about the nature of truth, reality, and heroism - all delightful things. I had thought that with the anniversary of my father's death coming up this weekend and the anniversary of another leave taking a short month after that, I might be feeling something less hopeful, more depressed. At this moment in time, however, I find myself feeling engaged in what is coming and relatively content, if still somewhat under the fluxy uncertainty of my transitional birthday tarot reading. So, while I'm not yet in a place where I am certain what kind of blossom it is that will flower forth from my lusty heart, life has taken a big leap forward in that I am increasingly convinced that it does not necessarily have to be stinkweed.