Tag: Yule

Yes, Hypatia, There is a Santa Claus

On By Chas S. Clifton

This fellow — Santa Claus, Father Christmas — has joined the lineup of graven images on our polytheistic/animistic mantel. That’s Hermes’ foot at the far left, followed by an ossuary jar of sharp-shinned hawk bones, and Hekate on the right.

We all know that Santa’s name derives from the Dutch form of St. Nicholas, but what need have we Pagans of a saint whose titles include “Defender of Orthodoxy” (versus the Arian Christians) and whose biographers proudly proclaim that he destroyed Pagan temples. So forget that part.

The connection with Odin is fascinating but fragile. Others go off on different tangents.

As the scripture states, “He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus.”

On the other hand, I really have no problem with calling this time of year “Christmas” in casual conversation. When I was in my twenties, I rigorously drew a line and would only say “Yule.” Now I am more casual.

Galimaufry with "Season’s Greetings"

On By Chas S. Clifton

¶ The Bad Witch mulls the issue of Pagan Yuletide songs and greeting cards. But, please, no e-cards. Nothing says “I couldn’t be bothered” like an e-card.

¶ I am reading Keith Hartman’s The Gumshoe, the Witch, and the Virtual Corpse. It’s not as noir as it thinks it is, but it’s a fun read if you like cozy gay Wiccan Baptist futuristic Southern mysteries.

¶ Don’t laugh, kids–this will be you some day. Rock stars of the 1960s and 1970s in their parents’ homes.

Solo Mountain Solstice

On By Chas S. Clifton

“Sunrise” in the mountains is a malleable moment. You rise and dress for the -5 F (-20 C). weather, taking a hiking staff and the drum case.

You walk the trail up the east ridge, then shoulder through a grove of Gambel oak until you can see the Sun’s glow.

Start drumming softly. A Steller’s jay is the only other voice. Faithful Dog snuffles and crunches in the snow. Less Faithful Dog has already gone her own way, following fox tracks through the forest.

Amazingly, not one car is moving on the state highway down in the valley.

The Sun is on your face now. After a time, having thought on what you need for the new solar cycle, you follow your tracks back down. Less Faithful Dog is on the front porch, all wiggly and cheerful.

The temperature has climbed to 0 F.

Best wishes to my readers for a happy and productive solar year.

A sign of the season

On By Chas S. Clifton

How do you know that Yule is coming? Is it the Christmas music in stores? Is it the Sun setting at 4 p.m., which means I have to stop my project of staining the exterior walls of the new cabin addition?

Or is realizing that you are standing beside a photocopier running off 25 copies of the final exam, which means the semester is almost over–hurray?