Today we are trying something different. As the seasons change, nature responds; in autumn, nature provides us with bountiful harvests and time to reflect and look forwards as we plan for the coming year.
Our summer visitors, such as swallows and house martins, prepare to leave for the warmer weather of Africa, whilst puffins and gannets leave to spend the winter at sea. Hedgehogs and bats are feeding up in preparation for their hibernation, whilst Badgers and Foxes ensure they are in prime condition for mating.
Starling murmurations fill our evening skies, the squirrels and Jays are burying nuts, the salmon are running up our rivers, the Deer are rutting, and mushrooms are bursting out of the earth as the leaves begin to fall.
Yet, new life is found on the beaches as seal pups are born. Autumn is coming – and that’s something to be celebrated.
As the sunlight diminishes daily, the leaves lose their chlorophyll, treating us to beautiful reds, and golds, with burnt umber and russet browns before falling slowly to the ground in the chilly autumnal winds.
The hedgerows look resplendent with their berries in stunning reds, purples, blues and blacks and look at the harvest in the fields and in your garden, abundant fruits like Apples, Blackberries, Elderberries, Pears and vegetables like crinkly kale, the stunning stems of rainbow chards, the orange blush of carrots, purple swedes, and the pops of taste and colour we know as radish, not forgetting the stunning fungi you can forage for out in nature now. Autumn really is the season of abundance.
There is little to rival blackberry picking to bring back your childhood memories. It’s great fun whatever your age, but as I’ve got older, I appreciate more the health benefits of these seasonal black fruits that are great for being full of vitamin C and fibre, helping to stop autumn sniffles, reducing inflammation in your body and improving Brain function.
Let’s not forget the folklore that claims that a blackberry bush outside your house will keep vampires at bay, not because of a pungent smell like garlic but because the vampires have to stop and count the berries.
Another dark berry you will find now is the Elderberry, a personal favourite.
Traditionally, Elderberry was used to treat influenza infections by boosting the immune system, and it is said to aid sciatica, headaches, dental pain, heart pain, and nerve pain. A word of warning it is also a mild laxative and diuretic. Elderberries taste great and can be used to make juice, jams, chutneys, and, best of all, elderberry wine.
Another fond childhood memory of autumn is collecting the fallen conkers from the Horse Chestnut tree. Their hard, prickly green cases, cracked open to reveal the ruby-red nut inside.
Back then, it was all about who had the toughest conker. Now, I see Conkers as a natural, organic, and completely free laundry detergent.
Conkers are full of saponin, taken from the Latin word, sapon meaning soap so conkers are also good as a natural body wash and shampoo too. Give them a try as I believe you will be pleasantly surprised.
Horse Chestnuts are not native to Britain; they were introduced from Turkey in the 1600s. Today though, Horse Chestnuts are at risk due to the leaf miner moth that leaves dark sores on their leaves.
With the Autumn equinox in the Northern hemisphere being 23rd September this year, the pagan holiday of Mabon is one of the eight Wiccan sabbats celebrated during the year. Mabon marks the autumnal equinox.
Mabon is a week-long celebration of Autumn where you are encouraged to spend some time alone in nature, one of the most sacred rituals for the autumn equinox.
Finding a quiet place to sit and reflect on the seasons passing by is one of the best ways to reconnect with nature. You can use this time to meditate or just be in silence and let yourself become one with nature again.
Mabon is also a time for reflection, on the year that has passed and planning for the year to come. It’s a good time to let go of things holding you back.
A seasonal feast with family and friends and burning dried wild herb bundles is a wonderful way to celebrate the autumn equinox.
I began storytelling online during the lockdowns and have since developed a deep appreciation for the richness and variety of our ancestor’s lore as it was their way of preserving their learning and wisdom to share with us today.
I’ve started to write my own stories and revisit some of the classic folklore tails and tell them in my way, and all with nature themes of course.
I will soon be launching a new Podcast, The Nature Storyteller with my own take on some of the classic folklore stories and sharing some of my own stories that I hope you will enjoy.
Folklore is an intoxicating mixture of facts and fantasy, but as for which is which, well that’s for you to decide.
On these chilly Autumnal evenings, there is nothing better than to settle down with a mug of rich, steaming hot chocolate, and snuggle up to your favourite animal companion, or your other half if you have to, and, if it’s safe to do so, close your eyes.
Now relax and listen as I bring you one of the classic autumnal folklore stories, that’s travelled through generations of storytellers and stood the test of time. this is
The Story of Modron
Once upon a time, and long ago during the birth of this world, there existed a mother known as Modron – an appellation that signified Great Mother.
Her beauty and strength were unparalleled, and her affection radiated like a beacon of light.
Modron had a son named Mabon, which meant Great Son.
Mabon’s countenance was a reflection of his mother’s love; his heart shone with a love reciprocated. His youthful vigour and vitality were so dazzling that they left all who beheld him spellbound.
Unfortunately, tragedy struck when Mabon was still an infant. He had barely spent three nights nestled at his mother’s bosom, nourishing from her breast and revelling in her embrace, when he vanished into the darkness.
When Modron awoke to find her beloved son gone and no one who could tell her who had stolen him away, she mourned and wept, and her tears swelled and flowed like a great ocean.
A Mother’s sorrow, too, can be as great as her love.
Many years passed without sight or sound of Mabon, and Modron continued to grieve and hope all this time.
Then, one day, a king arrived seeking to speak to Modron about her son. The King’s name was Arthur, and he came with a retinue of skilful and courageous knights following behind him.
King Arthur and his knights had been set an impossible task: to hunt the huge and terrible boar called Twrch Trwyth.
This boar was so strong, so fast, and so tough that no hunter in the world could track him down and kill him, save for the greatest huntsman of all.
Amid an ongoing search for a mysterious huntsman, rumours began to circulate throughout the area, suggesting that the individual in question could be none other than Mabon, the Great Son who had once shown remarkable energy even as an infant.
The people’s hope and belief were that if Mabon were indeed still alive and if he could be found, he would possess the ability to slay a formidable boar. As a result, King Arthur approached Modron and asked her about her son’s possible whereabouts.
The question was difficult and painful for Modron, eliciting a bittersweet laugh amid her sorrow. “Do you think I haven’t pondered the same question all these years?” she replied.
Despite the profound depth of her grief, which she likened to the vast expanse of the darkest sky on a moonless night, Modron had been unable to determine Mabon’s location or even ascertain whether he was still alive.
You have come a long way, King Arthur, but I cannot help you. You may as well ask the Blackbird where the boy is hidden!” she added with a sad, helpless wave of her hand.
King Arthur, too determined to give up, decided to do just that. He and his knights searched for the Blackbird, an old creature who had long guarded the gateway into other realms on the edge of dawn.
“Blackbird,” Arthur called, “We are looking for Mabon, son of Modron, who was stolen from his mother’s side three nights after his birth. Do you know where he may be hidden?”
The Blackbird looked at Arthur and his knights with quick, obsidian eyes. “I am old, as you well know,” he said at last.
As I sit here on this dusty patch of ground, my mind wanders to the days of old when a magnificent blacksmith’s anvil stood tall in this very spot.
It was a colossal piece of craftsmanship, forged from the strongest iron and capable of withstanding any blow. Despite its impressive size, it remained untouched by any hammer except for my delicate pecks with my beak.
Now, all that remains is this fine layer of dust beneath my feet, a sombre reminder of the passage of time. I have been present in this place for centuries, and yet I have never had the opportunity to witness or hear about the legendary Mabon, son of Modron.
“But,” the Blackbird continued, “I know of one who is even older than I am, and I will take you to him.”
Arthur and his knights thanked the Blackbird for his kindness and followed his lead. He soon led them to the bright Stag of the forest, whose old coat glistened as with midday sunlight.
“Stag,” called Arthur, “We are looking for Mabon, son of Modron, who was stolen from his mother’s side three nights after his birth. Do you know where he may be hidden?”
The Stag lowered his huge, antlered head and gazed at Arthur and his knights with ancient amber eyes. “I am old, as you well know,” he said at last.
Have you taken a moment to admire the grandeur of the towering oak tree that stands beside us? Reflecting on my existence, I can recall when that tree was merely a small, fragile sapling that sprouted from a humble acorn.
Now, it reigns as the most prominent and mightiest tree in the entire forest, boasting thick branches extending outward in every imaginable direction. I have grown in size and strength over the years, with my antlers expanding in a fashion that mirrors the tree’s sprawling branches.
It fills me with a sense of pride and serves as a testament to my age and endurance. That being said, I must humbly admit that I am not familiar with Mabon, Modron’s son.
“But,” the Stag continued, “I know of one who is even older than I am, and I will take you to her.”
Arthur and his knights thanked the Stag for his kindness and followed his lead. He soon led them to the Owl, whose rippling, moonshine eyes had watched the comings and goings of the night for unknown ages and now looked on King Arthur with placid kindness.
“Owl,” called Arthur, “We are looking for Mabon, son of Modron, who was stolen from his mother’s side three nights after his birth. Do you know where he may be hidden?”
The Owl adjusted her silent wings and turned her haunted, blossomy face towards Arthur and his knights. “I am old, as you well know,” she said at last.
Let me tell you a story as we stand in this forested valley. Long ago, when I was born, there was an even older and wilder forest here. Sadly, the people who moved in cut it down. But as they left for more fertile land, another forest grew in its place.
This forest also became wild and strange with age until the people returned and destroyed it once again. The valley was left empty and bare.
It seems that human beings tend to go to war and drain the land of its resources. But as time passed, the people left this valley to the gods of the wild places.
And now we stand in the third ancient forest I have watched grow to wilderness here. Let us cherish and protect this beautiful place for generations to come.
That,” said the Owl, her low eyes shimmering like deep pools, “is how old I am. And yet I have never seen nor heard of Mabon, son of Modron.”
“But,” the Owl told Arthur, “I know of one who is even older than I am, and I will take you to him.”
Arthur and his knights thanked the Owl for her kindness and followed her lead. She soon led them to the noble Eagle, who held his head aloft and flourished a beak and talons so sharp and true they might slice the air in two.
“Eagle,” called Arthur, “We are looking for Mabon, son of Modron, who was stolen from his mother’s side three nights after his birth. Do you know where he may be hidden?”
The Eagle gracefully adjusted her feathers and looked at Arthur and his knights with kind, sharp eyes. After a moment, she spoke, “As you know, I am quite old.”
She gestured towards a small rock in her talons and continued, “When I was born, there was a towering standing stone here. I would perch on it every night and strike my beak against the sky, creating stars with each peck.
But now, as you can see, there are countless stars, and I created them all.
The standing stone eroded over time due to the wind and rain, and all that remains is this pebble at my feet.”
That” said the Eagle, “is how old I am. And yet I have never seen nor heard of Mabon, son of Modron.”
As you can imagine, King Arthur was beginning to despair that he would ever find Mabon, the Great Son of Modron, to help him hunt the wild, terrible boar.
Arthur’s face was tired and drawn from his relentless quest, and his eyes were sunken due to lack of sleep and the long journey to seek out the wise and ancient beings he hoped would assist him. However, none of them seemed capable of offering any assistance.
Even though his knights remained loyal and trusted him as their King, they were also becoming weary. Arthur, being a good leader to his people and a friend to his companions, realised that he would have to call off the search soon for their well-being, if not for his own.
The Eagle, whose keen mind could read the fatigue and stress in Arthur’s expression, had sympathy for the weary King. “let me tell you a story,” he said to Arthur.
Arthur nodded his agreement and the Eagle began.
Once upon a time, when the world was new, severe famine caused great suffering and hunger. I was still young and endured my fair share of hardships during this time.
One day, while searching for food in an unfamiliar area, I spotted a fish in a small pool shaded by nine hazel trees far below me. Without hesitation, I dove towards the fish and caught it with both feet, determined to secure my meal and avoid starvation before nightfall.
The fish had an incredible strength that pulled me down into the dark, swirling depths of the pool. I was close to drowning, but I finally let go of my hunger and released the fish.
Later on, I discovered that it was the ancient Salmon of Wisdom.
This creature had lived in the sacred pool for ages, feeding on hazelnuts that fell from the surrounding nine hazel trees. It was even older than I was.
They say Hazelnuts are food for the gods, and I would not be surprised if the Wise Salmon herself were a goddess dwelling in that strange and mysterious place.
A mighty Eagle, like myself” said the Eagle, “could never presume to capture a goddess against her will! But let me tell you, Arthur, if the Salmon of Wisdom still dwells within that pool, I can take you to her.
Although all the oldest creatures of the land could not tell you where to find Mabon, son of Modron, she will undoubtedly know and help! And if she cannot, your quest is beyond all hope.”
So, with new hope and fresh energy, Arthur led his knights with the Eagle as their guide far across the land, over gentle green downs and dark twisting woods, until they finally came to the sacred pool in the hazel grove.
King Arthur was exhausted and took a knee beside a pool. The water rippled gently as a small stream flowed, meandering through the tree roots. As he gazed at the pool, Arthur imagined he could see the shimmering eyes of an ancient goddess smiling at him in the reflection of the tree branches, but they disappeared quickly.
In a flash, the silver body of a fish flickered by, and Arthur called out, “Salmon of Wisdom! We have come a long way to ask for your help.
We have spoken to the Blackbird, the Stag, the Owl, and the Eagle, and of all these ancient beings, none could lead us to what we seek.
We are looking for Mabon, son of Modron, who was stolen from his mother’s side three nights after his birth. Do you know where he may be hidden?”
As Arthur stood by the pool, he heard a beautiful voice that sounded like it was coming from the bubbling stream. The voice asked him if he had asked the mother of the person in question. Arthur told her that he had, but that through her sorrow she could not help him to find her son.
As Arthur listened to the Salmon’s words, a strange mix of sadness and amusement rose within him. The salmon spoke of Modron’s grief for her son, which she likened to the vastness and obscurity of the ocean. And the ocean was a place the salmon knew well, in every detail, having been her home for so many ages of man.
Every year, the Salmon returned to this particular pool where she would follow a stream that led her deep into the country’s hills and eventually to a spring in the courtyard of the Castle of Light.
The salmon said she had heard the cries and anguish of a solitary soul there for many years. “Do you think, wise Salmon, that this sorrowing sound may be of the Great Son?”
The Salmon spoke with an unwavering voice, “I am certain, and I can take you to him. You may ride on my back while I swim, but I can only carry two passengers. Therefore, you must go alone, Arthur, so that once you rescue the Mabon, you can both return together.”
With a mixture of bravery and apprehension, King Arthur bid farewell to his knights and climbed onto the silvery back of the Salmon of Wisdom.
Quick as light glinting over the water, the Salmon swam away with Arthur astride her. Arthur watched the blur of the countryside as sped along with a magical speed so that in almost no time at all, they were approaching the place where the stream began its journey, the spring by the great Castle of Light.
The Castle of Light, despite its ironic name, was a decrepit and decomposing structure, long neglected and entangled within the forest.
Its walls were crumbling and covered in moss, that dark decaying structure imposed on the early evening sky, giving it a foreboding appearance.
As they approached the fortress Arthur could hear the sounds of sorrow and weeping emanating from within its walls, just as the Salmon of Wisdom had described.
Immediately upon dismounting from the Salmon, Arthur charged into the castle’s dim courtyard. He forcefully struck the inner door with the hilt of his sword. The decayed door, so old and full of rot, yielded quickly to the force of Arthur’s blows, and he pushed it open.
Arthur followed the sounds of grief echoing through from deep within the castle, as he descended into the castle’s dark and damp dungeons, the sad sounds grew closer.
In a corner, Arthur found a man, crying and sitting hunched over. The man looked up when he heard Arthur’s footsteps. Even though his eyes were red from crying, his face, stained with the grime of many years had a youthful glow beneath the streaks of his tears.
Arthur spoke in a commanding tone that only a King can and said; “Are you Mabon, the Great Son of the Great Mother, Modron?”
The young man stopped crying and dried his eyes on the sleeve of his tunic, then stood up, revealing his full height and said “Yes, sir. I am Mabon, son of Modron and I have been imprisoned here in this dark, terrible dungeon for a very long time.”
I am King Arthur and I have been searching for you Mabon as I need you to track down the wild boar known as Twrch Trwyth. If you will join me in this quest, I will set you free
I will, and it will be my honour to serve my King said Mabon and then he quickly followed Arthur from the dark dungeon, up the many steps of the old castle and finally into the sunlight in the woodland.
Arthur and Mabon were soon sitting on the back of the Salmon of Wisdom, who looked at Mabon with a caring gentle gaze. The Salmon of Wisdom didn’t make an effort to protect the King and Mabon from the bowl waves and splashing of the water as she sped away from the Castle.
The stream’s water washed over them as the Salmon jumped and dived, twisting its glistening body with delight as it skilfully navigated the rocks and shallows avoiding obstacles and all the time maintaining a speed as fast as the glint of light on the water.
By the time they arrived back at the pool, Mabon’s face was cleansed of all the grime and sadness that had accumulated over the time he was trapped in the castle’s dungeon and now, he once again radiated with vitality, his vigour restored once again.
And that is how Mabon arrived at his mother Modron’s side—a tall handsome man who was shining and radiant. King Arthur and his fearless knights trailed behind him in all their majesty.
Modron greeted him with him the hug of a mother who had found her son again, a hug of immense joy and appreciation, that surpassed even the ocean’s vastness and the sun’s brilliance. Modron kissed her son and then stood back admiring what a magnificent man he had become. Then she smiled, turned to King Arthur and said; Arthur, you have returned my son to me, now, I give you Mabon my blessing to join with King Arthur in his quest.
In Celtic folklore, Mabon is a Welsh mythological god. He is the Great son of Lugus, the God of light, and Modron, or mother earth,
The autumn festival is a celebration of Mabon to express gratitude to Modron, Mother Earth for her abundance and gifts from nature in the autumn.
Perhaps you know the festival of Mabon as the Autumn Equinox or the the Christian, Harvest Festival, or the Druid, Alban Elfed.
However, you know the festival is a time to celebrate the light that will soon turn to darkness and to gather nature’s abundance harvest to preserve and maintain us through the dark and cold nights that lay ahead of us.
And that, I believe, is a very good place for our story to end.
The Nature StoryTeller For more stories by the Author
Wild of the Words Pridie Tiernan
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