Lugh, You Big Lug

Lughnassa was this week. If you don't know, it's the first of the harvest festivals. It marks the half-way between summer solstice and autumn equinox. I haven't done much in the way of rituals and whatnot lately, but I was pondering how to celebrate Lughnassa this year before we went camping. While we were camping though, the answer presented itself.

Happy harvesting there, Goat.

We went to a new campground this go around. It was a small campground with only 10 sites. It definitely catered more to the RV/HUGE trailer crowd who want to take advantage of the Hungry Horse Reservoir, but we set up our tent and table shade anyway. We definitely need the shade as the site had no natural shade in the afternoon and Lupus Girl needs her shade.

Exactly what I wanted to avoid, Stewie.

Since the location is very close to Glacier National Park (grizzly territory for those who don't know), each site had a bear box. Bear boxes are handy for motorcyclists and bicyclists who camp out and don't have a hard sided vehicle to store their food in. It helps them not have to string up their food in the trees. Well, we had the Subie, so we stashed food in it. We stashed the cast iron and camp stove on one side of the bear box and the recycle, garbage, and burn bags on the other. There's no dumpster service at this site and there was no need to drive 10 minutes into town every day for the small amount of garbage we produce camping. Yet, our camp host apparently got nervous at our use of the box. 

Yeah, there was a lot of that to come, Molly.

He came over about half way through the camping vacation and asked if we knew what the bear box was (Duh!). He asked if we knew it wasn't a dumpster (Again: Duh!). I said that it's a bear box for food and items with food smells. He said he'd seen us putting garbage in it and was concerned. He was really grouchy and condescending about it.  My husband told that since there wasn't a dumpster available, we were putting our refuse (bagged refuse) in it. If we didn't do that, what were we supposed to do with it? The guy said take it into town. I asked if we couldn't store the garbage in there overnight and then pack it out the way we'd planned. He said we could. He shook my husband's hand before leaving, but still gave us this suspicious look and I caught him eyeballing us more than once the rest of the time. It was odd and it has never happened to us before. I found it more than a little insulting and kept racking my brain for a better way he could've inquired that wouldn't have felt disrespectful and distrustful. Nothing came to me.

Do you have any thoughts on it, Pooh? No honey in our bear box. Sorry.

Consequently, my husband and I stewed over it. I tried to let it go, but I couldn't shake the maligning insinuation that we were going to trash the bear box of all things. I wondered if because we were the only tent folk using ours, and we were directly across from his site if that played into his paranoia. Who knows. But in the morning when I still couldn't rid myself of the denigrating interaction, I took some mildly passive-aggressive action. I scrubbed the bear box. No joke. I washed, rinsed, and washed it again. Inside and out. Cleansed it of dirt, spider webs, and food drippings. I felt better, but not yet mollified. So I did a bit more. This time it was more a letting go than a retaliation.

 Actually, no. I didn't. 

But it is a grain harvest so some beer would have been totally acceptable.

As I admired my handiwork, I ruminated on the fact that it was Lughnassa and such negativity was not what I wanted to be harvesting that day. So after we had secured our belongings out of the box and while my husband Tetris-ed the car, I went into pagan mode. I looked at the clean bear box and thought that since I had prepared such clean space, why not put some positive mojo inside?I collected sticks from the site and made a peace symbol inside the left cabinet and a heart inside the right. A little peace and love action, ya know? 

Exactly, Ringo. Exactly.

Then I looked for some fallen leaves. They were shaped like the spade suit in a deck of cards. I got five of them and positioned them in a pentacle. I used small stones for the outside circle and one to anchor the leaf stems. This was in the middle of the table, which we also scrubbed down as we always do after every meal and before leaving.  We also clean garbage from camp rings, pick up bits of garbage from the ground, and my husband also scrapes and oils the cooking grills  (we're very conscientious campers that way). 

Thanks, Trash Panda. Sorry you didn't get anything from us.

Not really. 

When my husband said he was ready and doing his one last sweep of the site, I walked widdershins around the site (protective direction) and murmured a few words of blessing. I don't believe in praying/casting spells directly for someone without permission and I don't truly believe in deities, so a spur of the moment blessing like this wasn't easy. Being Lughnassa inspired me I think as Lugh is seen as the multi-talented God including being a bard/poet. Anyway, since poetry is part of Lugh's domain and this is his celebration mythologically speaking, I included wording about the area projecting friendly expressions and favorable interactions for all who pass through. After all, poetry is using the most precise phrasing to describe emotions, and I wanted good-feeling emotions associated with this place. As we pulled away, I felt lighter. The animosity and indignation had gone.  

That's pretty  much how I felt, Charlie.

We returned home and harvested some tomatoes, raspberries, chard, and zucchini from our garden. The idea of reap what you sow kept playing in my mind. I don't know if my actions will impact anyone other than me, but that's enough magic for me. Thanks for the inspiration, Lugh.

I would've loved to have seen the camp host's face when we looked in the bear box too, Moose.