Guest Post: Wolf-Fest

WOLF-FEST AT THE RAVEN’S NEST: The Beer Ceremony (Oct 16/17/18 2009)
by Jim Larwill
The ceremonial fire was lit Friday night and Jeremy our Fire Lord tended it through out the fest. Many “medium-sized sticks” blazed all night. Embers still glowed on Monday, long after the revellers had left.

Ali generously drove those who needed a lift back and forth supplying extra beer and encouraging friends to drop by.
Mac “the excitable” lead rounds of Frisbee golf around the woods and was not decapitated by Pearl.
[Shown left in protective head gear.]
John showed up again Saturday morning to pick up his forgotten tea cup and drained the coffee urn into his portable caffeine-barrel with a handle.

Waterwoman Kim brought the best garlicky cucumber salad ever – as well as the totem wolf-dog Chewy. (Naan bread and bean dip now part of next year’s ritual food.) She also took time on the Sunday to meditate connecting the fest to other realms.
As the meat roasted on the spit the Uncles in their Raven form (still arguing) flew over the site casting a dark blessing down upon us all.

Raven
Originally uploaded by Daníel Starrason
Friday night Michelle donned a thick wool military great-coat, was given a rifle, hasn’t been seen since.


Brian hand-fed the fest’s chickadees, his smile and calm vegetarian demeanour an accent to the endless wolfing down of copious amounts of roast meat and beer by others.
Wendy shivered in good humour, her smile a flicker of laughter in firelight.
Ross came, ate, Frisbee golfed, enjoyed the most excellent sunshine of the entire fall.
The Most Venerable Cricket had said to the Raven King a few days earlier not to worry and to have a beer ceremony before the fest. As it turned out this year was a three day beer ceremony. This year was the foreshadow of things to come. This year was small, friendly and simple. This year tribal directions met in a circle around a hot fire by a lake. This year the only poetry was late Saturday night when the long silent wolves started to howl in the west and were on the move.
This year a totemic Canadian Shield was designed and displayed for the first time. According to Jeremy by early morning dark, the wolves had moved to the North. The Raven’s tail had stolen the moon. Out of fall dark, winter snow arrives, the True North, strong and free.
The Raven King, again alone in his nest, thanks all who came or connected in other ways. Let this cold harsh winter come; bestow Her ashen dream – hard and relentless.