Brid Walks the Earth Again

She senses a stirring deep within the Earth that rouses her and calls her name, “Brid….. Brid!”

She roams frozen meadows, over hills; through fields lying dormant; traverses streams barely trickling amidst patches of ice.  She spies a clump of snowdrops sending up their tiny shoots at the edge of the forest. Eventually She encounters the Old One, The Calliach, weary from Her labours of winter, Her tending to the

mountains and dales, the boulders and very stones beneath our feet: weary from long nights of stories around the never-ending fires.

The Calliach looks up, “The time has come. You have arrived!”

“Yes Grandmother, I have come once again, as I must. The Earth calls, the year turns, I have come to tend the springs and wells, the fires of the forge, the lifting up of hearts and minds towards the spring that comes!”

“You have come in good time, beloved one!”

“Yes, Grandmother. It is time. Go to your rest. Your labours of winter are complete. The time has come to welcome the first stirrings of spring.”

And thus the two exchange their blessings and each goes on their way; The Calliach to Her well-earned rest, Brid to tend the coming of spring…..

She stops at a sacred well. Are the waters running clear? She clears away the debris from last years’ fallen leaves, debris that decomposes creating new earth. She picks out stones that have toppled in blocking the flowing waters.

At a Sacred Spring she rebuilds a fallen wall. She greets a passing hare who becomes as a statue at Her approach before hopping into the undergrowth.

At one sacred well a pair of finches stop for a drink. Near another a wren serenades from a nearby branch. 

She stretches and looks up at the sky. She sniffs the air. Spring tugs at the edges of the world.

Brid visits Sacred well and Spring throughout the land. So much healing is needed in this wounded world. She shakes Her long curls as She travels to the next Sacred Well gifting the creatures of this earthly realm with her presence,  affirming their need.

In time Brid arrives at a low stone building. Smoke billows out of the chimney. She enters and is welcomed by the hot fire that awaits.

She removes her mantle and hangs it on a wooden peg inside the door. She crosses the room and caresses the smooth surface of Her anvil. She hefts Her hammer and gives it an exploratory swing. And smiles, loving

the familiar sensation of strength that flows through Her being. ‘How good it feels,’ she thinks, ‘to heft this hammer again!’

She checks the bellows. As they inflate and deflate the flames rise and fall. 

She glances around the forge notes the dried wood neatly stacked along two walls, ready, always ready to feed the fires. She notices the water tub also at the ready. In this uncertain world there are souls aplenty seeking re-making, re-molding, ready to be forged into the next chapter of their lives.

She nods, all is in place, all is as it should be.

There, by the door hangs Her worn leather apron with Her sturdy gauntlets on the shelf nearby. She reaches up and pulls Her apron over her head, settling it into place and ties it behind Her. She rolls up Her sleeves, picks up the bucket and heads for the well.

As Brid leaves the forge to fetch the cooling waters She sees that travellers have begun to gather. Many are new faces but some are old friends come to pay respect. She notes with a sense of satisfaction the hues of skin tones of every colour recognizing that some have come from afar, from warmer lands; from war-torn lands, lands plagued by drought or by flood; some from lands that might have been wrapped in the depths of winter but are now too warm; others from lands with rising waters that have taken their homes.

She sees people of all ages, many carrying all of their worldly possessions, others carrying their beloveds too ill or weak to carry themselves; some crawling, staggering beneath the weight of grief; many with children hanging onto their skirts; all in need of Her blessed healing.

Brid’s heart breaks open. She calls out, “The forge is open!”

A resounding cheer rises up.

Brid begins Her work anew.