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a post for Nollaig na mBan, on the last of the Omen Days + my word for the year
Hi friends, and happy New Year!
2025 is nearly a week old, and I’m still, slowly, getting my days in a row after December’s deep ebb.
A week after my father-in-law was laid to rest, we went to France for Christmas, and to bring home our daughter, on a school exchange there since September. Since then, the new year has come and gone and it hasn’t felt momentous at all, even less so than previous years. Personally, I’m more of an Imbolc-as-new-year kind of girl. Let me linger some more in the dreamtime of the Celtic Wheel of the Year, where I have found stillness and solace, despite the busyness of the season, and vivid dreams have found me.
“Over and beyond a long year I chased fog, but what I really sought was the flicker of the unknown.”
Today is the last of the Omen Days1, an ancient practice of paying attention to the natural world through the twelve days of Christmas, for signs and clues to the year ahead – ‘flickers of the unknown’. In the frost-hushed mornings and in the dusky pi…
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