Mabon Part I - Nothing Else Matters

The night air shifts before the signs of Autumn are noticeable during the day. While the days can still be hot and full of force like any other time in the summer, the evenings grow cooler and longer. The night knows what is coming...and pays heed to the turning of the seasons.

The Mabon Autumn equinox festival is one of the two times I have during the year to escape to the woods and frolic among friends, fire, and faerie. It is always a mixed gathering of old friends, past lovers, and friends yet to be. I was very much looking forward to this much needed reprieve, and I was excited to bring a brand new bottle of Talisker Storm with me to share. Only, when I went to the store, he was not there.

The woman behind the counter told me they weren't expecting him to return; she called around for me to the other places, but to no avail...  He had gone off, without a word, and with no indication of when I could see him again. All this so soon after I finally admitted my true feelings, proclaiming him to be my perfect Scotch. I was a bit taken aback, and surely disappointed, but life has trained me to take things like this in stride. The journey continues, indeed...

So instead of my beloved, I took with me two of the lads that had been hanging around for a bit - the Irishman and Wasmund's. Not Scotches, but single malts from Ireland and Virginia. Another friend was also bringing a group of boys he wanted me to meet, so I knew there was fun in store. Even without Talisker Storm.

On the first evening, an impromptu gathering assembled around my picnic table. Friends and whisky lovers with cups and mugs of all sizes, and with them the gentlemen of various styles from many parts of the world. We laughed and chatted as the sun set over the lake, bringing a close to the equinox day. In conversation, someone mentioned the band Iron Horse. Classic rock and metal songs done in the style of bluegrass.  And why not? Who says certain combinations shouldn't be? I'm beginning to think that attitude simply denotes a lack of creativity...

So I checked out this version of one of my favorite Metallica songs. It was different, for sure, but it suited me. When you're riding the chaos, it seems the unexpected becomes the norm in life.

These thresholds are for crossing. 

If your dearest beloved has left or disappointed you, then find another and pour a dram. Listen to the song and sip slowly, tasting the unfamiliar flavors with an open mind for a different view. Listen to the familiar song in a new way, and forever trust in who you are... for Nothing Else Matters.

Among the offerings to try from friends were Crown Royal Caramel and a new dark and mysterious Highland Park who I had never heard of - Einar. He is from the warrior series that this distillery has released, to honor the viking history of their island. I was excited to meet him.

I only had a short time with him, with all that was going on, but I found him very interesting. He was sweet and pleasant overall, at times with a note of powdered sugar! But he had an edge as well once he opened up - spicy and powerful. He was no Talisker, for sure, but that one was no where to be found. I'd say Einar is one of the best Highland Parks I've had, and I would love to spend more time with him soon.


As the dark night stretched a farewell caress over her dearest day, the waxing moon rose in the sky. The music was starting down at the pavilion, and the fire was calling us to play...

This festival marked a new chapter for us. The campground these folks used to gather at, some for over fifteen years, had closed; the group and this new campground were strangers to each other, and so in many ways this was like a first date.  We could not have near as big fires as in the old place, but there was a great big beautiful lake, which was never a part of our festivals before. Some good, some sad. Such is the way of life, growth, and change.

The most important piece though, of course, is the community. The history of stories and shared experiences weave a thread through all of the festivals, in all of the places, and gathers with it pieces of each of our lives in the mix. The faces are the same, and some of the tents and rituals, so it wasn't that everything was unfamiliar. The two sides melded, like night and day do at sunset, into a beautiful expression of paradox - both, yet neither.

The duet that played that first night was lovely, singing songs of just the right style and energy. There was a vibe of giddiness as we hesitantly explored our new festival home. Happy, joyful, but just a bit cautious.

Surprisingly, we all seemed to find ourselves comfortably settling in. The night became alive with music and passion, singing and dancing. Things were not the same, but they weren't entirely different either. The new always has seeds of the old, and the old lends and informs the new, and the new learns and renews the old. These are the cycles, like those of nature that we gather to honor.

I think of wooden whisky barrels as they flavor the spirit, and then in turn are seasoned themselves; the flavors meld with each batch, so there bits of every cycle that came before. The wood flavors the whisky, the whisky flavors the wood, and again and again, as the seasons turn.

And this was only the first night...