❤️‍🔥 An Cailleach. Her Terrible Beauty. ❤️‍🔥

Winter's Waning. The Cailleach moves toward Saint Brigid's Day and Imbolc

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There are Three Great Ages:
The Age of The Yew Tree,
The Age of The Eagle,
and The Age of The Cailleach.

“Skippydi-diddly-dabbadi-doe,” Cailleach Bheur sang, dropping rocks from her apron. “Skippydi-diddly” she continued, tumbling more boulders, forming landscapes with each giant leap!

Bird’s eye easily finding her and landing, sticking his sharp talons in her shoulder, Tiercel Eagle Raptor, called out,

“What is with your joyful melody Bheur? You know Old Lady Creators always get lousy publicity!”

Upon hearing this, she smacked her staff on the ground forming ice while using her Winter Wit, Cailleach responded, “Haven’t you heard, The older the fiddle the sweeter the tune? Why are you worried about my future publicity from the humans? You have more pressing matters. One day, your species will be extinct from Erin for centuries!”

During this argument, soaring high above them was Mother Eagle who spotted her missing fledgling Tierel talking to The Cailleach. Coming in closer she speaks to her friend the Ancient Crone, “Honestly Bheur, Tiercel left our nest in the Yew tree way too soon! He did not learn all his fledgling lessons!”

“Mama! You are so embarrassing!” Said Tierel.

Cailleach announces, “As a Creatrix Goddess who is older than time itself, I’m used to such things.” Pounding her gigantic hammer to form new frozen crevices into the hills, “Tierel, I want to reassure you that eventually, conservationists will reintroduce your kind to Ireland! For now, return to your nest with your mother until your full twelve weeks of lessons are complete!”

With that, Tiercel and Mother Eagle flew back to their Yew tree nest together.

Returning to her frigid genius artistry, Bheur called forth extra wild winter storms! On the route journeying back to The Beara Peninsula, she stopped at her house on Slieve Gullion, in County Armagh. She packed supplies in her Crane bag including the seeds. Home sweet home, the Ancient Crone is most comfortable here!

In the morning, Bheur went to Camlough (lake), to scrutinize her reflection. While looking in the loch, she talked to herself, saying, “My untamed, wiry, frozen, gray wisdom locks fly free from this thin veil. My deep character lines represent my eons of experiences. My behemoth size allows me to use my mountains as steppingstones! Turning her head away from the lake, she notices that the glacier on Gullion is receding at an even faster rate than last year. She pauses briefly, sighing, to contemplate this before mounting her wolf, Madra Allta. Speaking to her gray, furry friend she says, “The days are getting a little longer, we must move on!”

Forward to Patrick’s Hill at Loughcrew in County Meath where Beara admires the details of her handiwork. Through her icy breath Beara says to Madra “I left standing stones and Cairns (burial mounds) atop of this one! Once the humans force the Sidh* into their fairy realm underground, my cairns will make great forts for them to live in! Even with all this imprinted on her mind, she says, “unfortunately, we cannot pause here for long. Let us keep going toward Carnbane East to rest overnight where my throne is.”

(*The Tuatha (tua) Dé Danann, The Clan of Danu, Celtic goddesses & gods of Danu. often known as The Sidh (Shee) fairy folk)

Just as the sun was beginning to set, Madra Allta and Cailleach Beara finally arrived at Slieve na Calligh (Hill of The Cailleach or The Hag). Finding her comfy throne they both relaxed.

In the interim darkness, An Cailleach appears to you in your dreams. Through her crackly voice she says,

“I am the Cailleach Beara
Many wonders have I seen.
I have seen Carnbane a lake.
Though tis now a mountain green."

Startled, you say, “Wait, what?”

“No need to fear! I am An Cailleach Bheur speaking to you. In your dreaming tonight, you shall travel across Erin with me and my wolf, Madra Allta. For now, will you come with me and sit with us on my throne?”

You quickly decide, “the way this world is going right now, why not ride along with a giant Creatrix goddess and her wolf in my dreams? Sure, I tell her, let us go!”

Along the way, you watch as Bheur reaches into her Crane bag to find snacks to share. “My bag contains our snacks, the ingredients for our stew, a jar of my finest Mead, and powerful herbs as well as the seeds I collected from last year’s harvest. I keep them safe until I can hand over the reins to Brigid at Imbolc.”

Finally, you find the courage to speak up saying, “Why am I here? What do you want?”

Bheur Responds, “I am a bean feasa* and seer with gifts of prophecy. I am here to assist your movements from winter to spring this year. (*ban fasa, wise woman)

But before we discuss all those ideas, let us go and collect firewood. We will build a tripod on the firepit to hang my cauldron upon.”

Even though you are walking about with a giant goddess and her wolf, you begin to relax a little. After collecting enough firewood and peat, An Cailleach and you construct the tripod to hang her cauldron from and build the fire.

Photo by Vadim Artyukhin on Unsplash

Before retiring for the night, Bheur and Madra teach you an Irish jig as they sing, Skippydi-diddly-dabbadi-doe! You try it dancing around the fire, Skippydi-diddly-dabbadi-doe!

After the flames die down, Cailleach reverently smoors the fire pit before she sits in her chair. You and Madra settle on the top of her roomy lap under the warmth of her dark purple cloak. The howling shrill wind that sounded like a bevy of keening banshees was no match for the safe feeling of her cozy cover! Before dozing off, you and your new friend’s gaze at The Northern Lights lulling you to sleep.

The next morning, we admired Cairn T, the most well-known passage tomb at the site. “This is where my other half Brigid will be able to see the sunlight of The Spring Equinox shine to the back of the womb/tomb,” she said.

Bhuer, gave you a torch to take into the mound, so you were able to see megalithic carvings that look like flowers and rib cages. Amazed with wonder, you said, “Imagine the cosmic phenomenon that will occur in Márta, March!”

Cailleach continues, “Nevertheless, when Madra and I journey again in The Fall, we will see the light shine here at The Autumn Equinox. But I am getting ahead of myself! Before this winter weakens any further, I want to talk to you about my powerful hammer and staff. With them I control the weather and shape the landscape. You must skillfully use your own interior hammer and staff to create and control your inner terrain.” She demonstrates by slamming forth a storm with her staff and pounding a valley before us with her hammer.

After that, Bheur remarked that the sun came up even earlier this morning. “We must get going, the ice in my scraggly hair is beginning to melt! You and I will both ride on top of Madra. She will get us to where we need to go!”

I was hesitant to mount a wolf! Sensing this, Madra reassured me saying, “each one of you humans has a choice between two inner wolves to ride. You can choose the one who mismanages her anger and will take you spinning in the wrong direction or you can choose the one that transforms her rage into powerful life-giving energy and will take you to where your heart desires. You make the decision by choosing which wolf you will feed!”

While Madra and I were talking, Bheur wrapped me in her cloak, and helped me mount the wolf who raced us over the land and through rivers.

“The next stop is on top of my mountain, Carbane West in Loughcrew. I worked hard here, leaving eight cells in Cairn L. You can explore them for a short time.”

While I was investigating the cairn, Madra was looking nervous about how much longer the daylight was getting. She nudged Cailleach to get us both on her back. In agreement Bhuer exclaimed, “We will really have to make a run for it to reach Coulagh Bay by the end of Eanáir, January. We do not have much time!”

The three of us headed southwest from what is now County Meath to The Beara Peninsula, where Cailleach will make her annual choice. Madra Allta, noticing how much weaker and more tired Cailleach was getting, dashed so fast she was almost flying through what will one day be counties: Westmeath, Offaly, Tipperary, Limerick and finally County Cork, where the fingerlike Beara Peninsula, borders County Kerry.

The Cailleach said, “We have a couple of days left before Imbolc. Let us set up camp here at the foot of Mount Maulin. Tomorrow we can skip over to Dursey Island. I created this innis. island to remember my white cow with red ears. There are two other islands that I formed out there in the bay: The Calf and The Bull. When the humans came, Donn, the god of the dead, began using The Bull as the abode of your ancestors in the otherworld.” You loved listening to Cailleach reminisce about how so many places in Ireland received their names. You wished your dream would last longer!

Time moved on, however. The last day of Eanáir, January 31st, had arrived. Your ancient Anam Chara, soul friend, was so exhausted she chose for us to wait until tomorrow, Feabhra, February 1st to collect extra firewood.

Bhuer said to you and Madra, “If the sun comes up nice and bright, I will go collect wood and peat for the fire and my wintery power will be rejuvenated for six more weeks! If tomorrow is overcast and watering us with rain, I will just turn over for a few more winks.” We slept under her cloak while Madra kept watch.

The next morning, the rain was really coming down and the skies were gray. Cailleach turned back over for more sleep. Her cover was so warm, I decided to sleep in too!

Finally, when she got up, she said, “I am not nearly as stiff as I have been lately!”

I did not say anything, but I observed An Cailleach was looking vastly different. We walked down toward Coulagh Bay. When she looked into the water, the reflection looking back at her face and neck had lost all those deep lines of epoch experience. Her hair had changed from that scraggly gray to fiery red. Her veil and cloak were no longer a deep color of purple but instead it was bright green! Brigid was looking back at herself!

Brigid announced, “The threshold transformation has come!” Looking at you with kindness and reaching out her hand to hold yours, she said, heileo, hello, I am Brigid. My seasons are spring and summer.” She smiled in the way that caused you to hear the angels sing!

After a blessed washing of our faces in the water, Brigid and I walked back up the hill toward The Hag of Bheara Boulder. On this huge granite formation, the stone face of The Cailleach looks back at us.

Brigid said, “Many believe An Cailleach’s face turned to stone as she waited for her husband Manannán mac Lir, the god of the sea, to return to her.”

Then Brigid and I noticed the snowdrops shooting up through the melting snow all around. “Spring is coming,” she said.

Keeping your comments to yourself, you thought, “it must be nice to have spring come on Feabhra, February 1st!”

Brigid reading your mind explained, “No Dear. Imbolc means the time when the ewes begin to lactate. It does not mean that the warmer days are totally here!”

As Brigid and I moved on from the boulder we noticed a couple of hares hopping along beside us!

“Of course,” Brigid said, “Nothing can totally keep you or The Cailleach frozen in one spot, confined to just one place! She and Madra have shapeshifted and will hop along through spring and summer, right with me!

As for you, morning has come!

NOW, it is time for you to awaken and manifest those dreams for yourself, your community and world! When you want to remember we are with you, just dance the Irish Jig. Skippydi-diddly-dabbadi-doe, and here we will be!”

Brigid blessed you by kissing you on the forehead.

With the sun shining through your window, you woke up, totally refreshed and renewed with empowering agency. You are ready to go!

Saint Brigid’s Day and Imbolc Blessings! The Season of New Beginnings has come!

About the photo above. Taken in 2001, I am standing with The Cailleach Béara Boulder, looking out into Coulagh Bay, The Beara Peninsula. County Cork, Ireland.

The evidence of the lengthening of Daylight is almost here!

In Loving Memory of and surrounded by My Four Irish Great-Grandmothers.

Beannachtai’, Blessings,

Karen Kerrigan, ARCWP

“If we want to reap the harvest of peace and justice in the future, we will have to sow the seeds of non-violence, here and now, in the present.”

(Mairead Corrigan Maguire, Irish Peace Nobel Laureate)