Here’s a reblog of my latest post for Druidheart, on the SageWoman channel at Witches and Pagans.

Arthur Rackham, 1920

At this time of year, I always honour Jack.

 
Who is Jack? Why, Jack In the Green, of course! Although Mr Sparrow does deserve high praise indeed – but I digress. When the greening has taken over the land, when everything suddenly seems to explode in a riotous cacophony of twisting tendrils, blooming buds, leafy mounds and pollen induced insanity – this is when Jack is in His element.

 
Up until now, things have been fairly orderly. The weeds have, for the most part, been kept under control. Everything seems to have taken its turn in coming out – the columbine turning the garden all shades of pink through to purple. A couple of weeks later and BAM! Chaos reigns. Each green and growing thing is no longer playing nice; now it’s a competition for the most light, the best position. We had a lovely calm before the storm in May, now the party well and truly has begun.

As we edge ever closer to the summer solstice, so too does Jack creep further into our hearts, into our psyche. Sleep patterns are disturbed by the long evenings and early mornings (here in the UK). We spend every moment we can enjoying this weather, for it can all change tomorrow into a cold, dreary day. We barbeque at every opportunity. We attend festivals and gatherings, meeting new people and seeing old friends. We have come out of our shell, so to speak, to dance in the full light of the sun. We make noise. We laugh. We love out in the open in the lingering twilight.

 
Jack can bring all these wonderful things to the fore. He can also run you ragged. Like tending a garden – we have to keep Him in check or else he will just run you crazy until you’re lying on the floor, wondering how on earth you got there. There’s a rush to do things, to make use of the wonderful light and time of year. We’re overbooked – we’re double and triple-booked in some cases. We’re teetering on the edge of the solstice, and Jack is waiting to push you over the edge.

Cont’d

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