My Scribe & Aristaeus

My Stories
A marked queen travels honeycomb to lay eggs and build brood

My scribe has been absent recently; far too often. It would seem that one of the many son’s of Apollo has caught his interest and left me feeling more than a little deserted.

Aristaeus.

Who, you ask?

Aristaeus, the rustic son of Apollon and the keeper of many of the outdoor earthly arts. Wanna grow a garden? Better give a nod to Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest, but you really better be in good with Aristaeus. Cheesemaking, hunting, fishing, orchard-keeping, and my scribe’s new obsession, bee-keeping, all fall under the influence of Aristaeus.

I suppose he’s hard to resist, if you go in for that type. His father is Apollon, who first encountered his mother fighting a lion, and he has been a favorite amongst the Olympian crowd ever since he could walk. Apollo took Cyrene, his mother Libya and there she gave birth to Aristaeus in the city named after her.

Once grown he moved to Thebes where he studied under Chiron and learned the healing arts, but ever was he drawn to the outdoors. As I mentioned earlier, his artisan skills endeared him to the older gods, even moreso after he interceded on behalf of the people of Ceos. Zeus had grown angry of the inhabitants of the area and wrought a destructive drought on the area that Aristaeus was able to bring to an end by building a temple to the King of the Gods and appeasing his infamous temper.

Aristaeus continued to travel, visiting many island in the Mediterranean, and even ruling over Sardinia for a period of time. Everywhere he went, he freely gave away the knowledge of his skills in building, keeping, and protecting, apiaries, olive groves, vineyards, hunting, shepherding, and how to best utilize their resources to receive bountiful blessings from Demeter as organized agriculture continued to grow and flourish.

In the end he retired to Thessaly where he studied under Dionysos and shared the knowledge with the local inhabitants. Wine, mead, and later ale all flowed from Dionysos, but they did so best under the supervision of Aristaeus. He dedicated his life to traveling the Eastern and Central Mediterranean and sharing the same knowledge that is still in use today for maximizing bounties in these rustic arts. For that, and all his protections over crops, livestock, vineyards, apiaries, and plantations he is recognized as possibly the most benevolent and beneficient of all the Greek deities.

I suppose it’s expected my scribe, who excels at the rustic earthly arts, would find Aristaeus eventually. And I know what you’re thinking, but forget it I’m the God of Hate and Jealousy but I’m not envious. Well, hardly at all. Aristaeus is a nice enough fellow, and I can see why this mortal would be enthralled. He just needs to get back to writing my stories. After all that is why I took him under my wing, to write my stories.

We will be talking soon, so you can expect more postings here. He posts his beekeeping exploits at his website, Wayne Davids, Author. That is where you can read and follow his apiary exploits.

Images © Wayne Davids

Wort Moon

Poetry

July is alternatively known as the Buck Moon by indigenous people throughout much of North America. This is because male deer, bucks, tend to have their antlers (which fall off in late winter) begin to show prominently at this time of year as they regrow in preparation for the fall rut. 

It has also been referred to as the Hay Moon, an Anglo-Saxon reference to the dry time when hay was due to be cut for livestock. A torturous ordeal in and of itself, cutting hay.

This year’s full moon is expected to have a red-orange tint in North America due to the smoke from a multitude of wildfires currently burning. Let us all pray to our respective gods to protect lives and homes during this difficult time. So mote it be.

Honey Moon

Poetry
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Strawberries and honey
What’s not to like?
Those are two of the names
of this most recent incarnation of ‘Mother’.

Our gardens are close to giving bounty
While the rivers and bays are full
Keeping us well nourished
Just as she does

Sacred reflected light
It’s power

Washes over us
Energizes us
Ignites our souls
Replenishes our minds

It is for me
Another creative night
Bathed in magickal light
That must carry us through

until the next time Mother arrives

Thank you

My Stories

I started this blog in late 2019 , but did little with it; so it languished in loneliness and neglect for a year. In mid-November 2020 I found myself with some much appreciated free time on my hands and worked to revitalize it with thoughts, old stories, my attempts at poetry, and some shared scribblings from other good friends with blogs.

May 25th, just over 6 months from my “re-launch” and I have reached 100 followers. I have no idea if that is an impressive number of followers in 6 months or not, it’s not really my goal here. Three digits just seemed like a good time to tell everyone who follows, comments, likes, or in any way just checks out my little ramblings – Thank You.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I enjoy writing, and like any writer, I enjoy being read. I think anyone who writes can honestly admit that they hope what they put down on ‘paper’ in some way touches or resonates with readers. Why else would we punish ourselves like this? (it’s a joke, I kid, well, sort of). Hopefully something here clicked with you.

If it didn’t?

Well, I will keep trying. I hope you’ll stick with me as well as I try new things and scratch down new combinations of words and letters that will hopefully resonate for you.

Thank you so much, and as always,

Blessed be you and your muse,
Wayne Davids aka Dinlas God of Hate & Jealousy.

Image by HeungSoon from Pixabay

Blossom Moon

Poetry

This moon is traditionally also referred to as the Flower Moon. However I prefer Blossom Moon, as a number of North American indigenous tribes referred to it. Blossom Moon, to me, better encompasses all things that explode with life in the spring. Flowers are beautiful, I keep my share, but they are not everything.

I do apologize – I am a day late with my full moon ode this month, but alas life does happen at times, and I have not been in a good frame of mind to write until today. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy.

© Wayne Davids

Ancient Keys

My Stories

As the God of Hate, thousands of years old, I have seen countless generations of wise and insightful mortals come and go. Of course I am partial to the Greeks, I make no apologies there, but they hold no monopoly on wisdom. Every week I share my favorites and a thought on how their insight from thousands of years ago is still relevant today. Please enjoy these, I know I have through the years and they guide me every day.

Secret Place

Poetry

What is cheerfulness
is it glee
what are all these emotions
I feel
that motivate me

Do I speak of those not
acceptable
Share my pain, my lethargic ennui
its all
I sometimes feel I’ve got

I’ll carry them in the secret
place inside
They call it heart or soul
but I
find it’s just the place I hide


© Wayne Davids
Image by Sammy-Williams from Pixabay

Pink Moon

Poetry

Spring teases
balmy days, but penetrating nights
crocus is past
narcissus blooms, then fades
but the promise of warmth and color is everywhere

From the flowering trees
to dancing honey-bees

April is the month of
vibrant color
delicious fragrance
audacious hope

The Pink Moon
embraces this season
marks its arrival
ushers it onto stage

For all the world to see



Image by István Mihály from Pixabay

A Great Leader

My Stories


I shared a bit about Julius Caesar in a previous post and now I am going to share about the greatest Greek General, and possibly greatest military mind, that ever existed.

Alexander III of Macedon otherwise known as Alexander the Great.

Alexander was born in Pella in 356 BC. The son of King Philip II, he succeeded his father to the throne at the age of 20. From there he went on the greatest empire building military campaign in the history of the world. At the time of his death, a mere 12 years later, his kingdom stretched from Greece to India, including all of Persia, and into northeastern Africa, including Egypt.

Alexander studied under the great Aristotle until age 16. This served him well later to learn calm deductive reasoning, which ran counter to his often rash and impulsive nature. And while his mother imbued in him a sense of destiny and immortality (she told he was the son of Zeus) his father provided the competitive impetus, through his own conquests, to drive young Alexander to be even better.

As a child, young Alexander once lamented to a friend about his father. Would leave him “no great or brilliant achievement to be displayed to the world“. A statement that while Alexander recognized his father’s greatness, he sought to downplay it and promote his own victories as more significant. I suppose the rivalry between fathers and sons will always exist.

But victories and brilliant achievements awaited him. Alexander led his troops in no less than 20 major campaigns and no enemy ever defeated him. This despite him often being significantly outnumbered. His military genius, ability to inspire troops, and tactical intelligence are all taught in military institutions even in modern times.

I fought with Alexander only once, at The Battle of Issus, against an army personally led by Darius III. It was Alexander’s second great battle of his Persian Campaign, but the first where the two leaders personally faced one another. Here my Greek brethren showed his superior military genius.

Leading up to the battle, Alexander had already pushed deep into Persia, in the area of modern day Turkey. Darius sought to blunt his advance by moving unexpectedly into position, cutting his supply lines. This maneuver forced Alexander to adjust and march to Darius to secure his flanks as well as re-open supply and communication lines through the narrow mountain passes that traced the region. We faced off against Darius, and established a front. Outnumbered over 2:1 by the most conservative of guesses, still we held a distinct advantage. The significantly larger Persian force could not field itself as long as we could, hence they would be forced to retreat or attack while we could battle from a defensive position.

The battle waged at The Pinarus River, not far from where it emptied into the Gulf of Issus. Our troops struggled against both Grecian mercenaries who fought against us and the overwhelming Persian cavalry who threatened to overwhelm our left flank. General Craterus can be credited with holding them off, at great odds, long enough for Alexander himself to drive a wedge in the Persian line with a wedge of infantry to which I was attached. On this day I saw my father, Ares, smile on the Macedonian king as Alexander splintered the cohesive line of Persians with our infantry charge. That being not enough, Alexander then seized a horse and in conjunction with our cavalry, launched a direct frontal assault on Darius’ personal retinue that routed the opposing king and drove him from the field.

Alexander inspired confidence and loyalty in his generals and troops again and again over the years by fighting with them, not over them and talking to them, not at them. The mark of a great leader is to create a bond that binds followers through obedience only after inspiring them through trust. Great leaders always command the trust of their followers, and they actively work to cultivate that trust by showing the same care for their people as they expect their people to show to them.

If his ego existed, he kept it in check and made sure to lead by example. Never considering himself too good to do what he asked another to do.

This despite believing he was the son of Zeus.

Image by Thanasis Papazacharias from Pixabay