Sunday, 21 September 2014

Dig-in Scotland

We sit on the eve of the Autumn equinox and mourn our summer dream, which shall shine no more. Yet for strange noctornal creatures like me, there is daring delight in the dark nights which whisper their welcome to wounded hearts.

Our harvest did not bear the fruit of the blossoms which we had dared to cultivate. Our toil did not yield what was deserved for this great rich land, which we love so much. For so sometimes it must be, without a nod to reason, logic or fairness, often the most beloved and tended seed, stubbornly refuses to grow.

But the wounded farmer does not give up. For now is the time to enrich our soil. If we are willing to plough our unripened failures back into the cooling earth, we will nourish the very soul of our argument and feed the lifeforce that will allow it to flourish again.

Many times the bulb planted in the early warmth of spring will disappoint but though an autumn sowing has no chance of an early reward, the patient farmer knows the long wait will be worth it, when at last the harvest bins are full.

What happens in those long dark dormant months is nothing short of miraculous. For without their hardship, the Spring would have no foundation. In truth, they are not dormant at all. The frost to come will only serve to break up the ground for us. We must embrace it. For those who hope to strip our land of strength do not understand its true riches and they will be confused by our faith.

We must now furrow the heat of our spoiled summer back into every field. The fruit that did not ripen must not be wasted. For though we did not eat of it fully, the new seeds which have set are many in number, and they are ripe to take up the task. 

Let us cast those seeds now to the autumn winds in faith and hope that we have gathered them well. Let us brew up a winter storm that will refresh our vigour and blow out the rotten that must fall away. 

For in the dark, we can dream unseen. In the dark, we will grow un-noticed.
  
Dig-in Scotland, dig-in. 

For in the Spring, our shoots will shatter their slumber once more...