The Rites of Spring

When my friend Isabel called yesterday to invite us to meet her and a couple of friends at a park at 4 o’clock for a merienda (an afternoon snack), I took her at her word.  Isabel called at 2, and we were all still in our pajamas, so the timing was perfect.  Slowly, we got motivated and showered and dressed.  I took the “snack” part of the invitation seriously, and packed a cooler bag with cheeses, jamon, membrillo, baguette, cava, Pinky (non-alcoholic bubbly for kids) and tangerines.   In another bag I packed a blanket and a soccer ball, and Alec through in a portable iPod player.

We met Isabel and her daughter, Lily, at the Sarria FGC stop.  Pretty soon her friend Rachel appeared, and we set off for the park.  As we walked, we continued to pick up more and more women and children until we were a rather sizable group.  No one seemed to be carting nearly as much stuff as we were. 

When we arrived at the park, it became clear that this was to be no ordinary picnic.  First off, no one was taking out any food.  One of the women, Maria, instructed us all to sit in a circle.  She took a small fairy statue and some plastic butterflies out of her bag and placed them on the ground in front of her.  Maria began to talk about the day and the fact that we were on the brink of the equinox.  “Spring is a time of opening up, of change,” she said.  “After the dark days of winter comes the sun.  It is time to look inside ourselves, take our cues from nature, and find out what kind of change each of us needs.”  I gave a sidelong glance towards Ann.  While I love ritual and have no problem holding hands and singing with strangers, Ann has much less patience for the hippy-dippy.  “What have I gotten us into,” I wondered.  Then, “She’s a big girl.  She can go take a walk if it gets too weird.”  When Maria’s eyes met mine, it felt as if she was looking into my very center.

Maria instructed the children to go off and hunt for beautiful natural objects to give to the fairy—the kids scattered quickly and began to come back with pinecones, flowers, sticks and rocks.  I looked at Isabel—“Merienda, my ass,” I said in a stage whisper.  She laughed.  Then Maria had each of the adults pick one card from a deck of tarot cards.  She had each of us, in turn, hand her our card and told us what it meant for us.  I drew the Hierophant—the high priest, a card that represents spirituality, learning and teaching.  According to ezinearticles.com, “The Hierophant depicts someone who is able to see through the superficial and get straight to the heart of the matter.”  Maria told me I needed to pay attention to the voice that talks to me when I first wake up in the morning, because our minds do important work during the night, and the results of this work are most accessible to us before we are fully awake.  I think my morning voice usually says, “Hit the snooze button!” but I will try to pay better attention in the days and weeks to come.

I was beginning to wonder when the picnic part of the afternoon would begin when Maria took out a container of nutella sandwiches for the kids, and ladyfingers for the grownups.  Other snacks appeared from other people’s bags.  I wondered if it would be okay to open the cava, but decided against it.  We took out a pack of stroopwafels and added it to the food that had begun to circulate.

Then the kids went off in a circle and learned how to be fairies—C.C. reported back that she did not want to be a fairy; Milo missed the whole fairy part because he needed to make a trip to the bathroom, which can take a very long time for Milo.  My stomach had begun to growl, so I started unpacking the cheese and jamon, the bread and the cava.  Isabel looked over—“Wow!” she said.  “You said merienda, and I take my snacks very seriously,” I replied.

Next we all made a large circle on the ground with the nature items the kids had brought back.  We stood outside the circle, tarot cards in front of our feet, and held hands.  I had to lunge out of the circle at one point when a Jack Russell terrier tried to snarf the jamon. Maria walked around the circle and whispered something in each of our ears.  Something secret.

The party broke up pretty quickly after that.  Ann and I sat and kept snacking, while C.C. headed to the swings with Lily and Isabel, and Alec and Milo kicked the soccer ball around.  After everyone else had left and it had begun to grow chilly and dusky, Isabel, Lily, Ann, Alec, C.C., Milo and I packed up and began to walk back through the nearly empty streets of Sarria, four-year old Lily clutching the bottle of Pinky and taking a swig now and then.  Isabel and Lily turned off to go to the train, and we made a short detour to Bar Tomas for a few plates of patatas bravas—Bar Tomas has some of the best in town.

If my morning voice tells me anything juicy, I’ll let you know.