A Leary Lughnasadh

Fair morrow, mortals! I marked Lughnasadh last night—the auld Celtic festival marking the time between Summer’s solstice & Fall’s equinox. I ascended Mount Diablo, to a secreted field of wheat, for the most sacred ritual: the hunting of conservagoblins!

In times long past, Lughnasadh marked the first fruits, the early harvest. Summer’s kind gifts, ye might say, & celebrated with sport & game to honor mighty Lugh. Chasing conservagoblins preserves that spirit, but might such festivals come due for change? Summer was once a pleasant respite from the harsh Winter—many cultures posited their Heavens as lands of Summer, like Tír na nÓg. But now, with Summer so punishing, might Winter become the season of relief?

Times change, mortals. Before Lughnasadh, other festivals reigned. & Lughnasadh must change, or fade. I wish ye would not force such change, by burning quite so much oil quite so pointlessly, but e’en so. How will ye mark this half-way time, ‘twixt Summer & Fall?

Thank ye for reading! & we humbly thank that growing clan of mortals who can & do support our works here with coin! GRATIAS!

I shall write ye come Wednesday with news of our next episode! Til then: be safe, be well, & may thine hunts bear many prizes…

Cheers,
Amœnus Franco
Wizard, Writer, Blessèd of Lugh