June Sweetness: Berries are Fairy Fruit
“And then, one fairy night, May became June.”
Mischievous Fae Folk were said to be quite lively come June. As the moon waxed bigger and brighter, people made offerings to spirits in the Otherworld by scattering berries, nuts, or another sweetness at the edge of their land. If you weren't sure what the wee, winged ones liked to eat, you might turn to the garden and forage for answers amidst the fruits of spring’s labor.
In some parts of the Northern Hemisphere, June marked the start of berry season. Known as the Strawberry Moon, Blackberry Moon, Raspberry Moon, or Garden Moon, June's moon was dedicated to the fruit ripening in the wild. Other nicknames for June’s moon include the Rose Moon, Flowering Moon, Lotus Moon, Mead Moon, and our favorite, the Planting Moon. In our eyes, the sixth moon of the year is a welcome reminder that all things bloom in their own time – just the berries in our garden, the flowers yet to open, and you. Especially you.
Perhaps berries magically appear at Midsummer because berries are fairy fruit.
Scarlet-skinned and heart-shaped, strawberries have long been associated with magick for love and passion. They are sowed by Venus and governed by the moon, sweet reminders of Earth’s waters. Strawberries tell the stories of fertile soil and sensuality and goddesses like Persephone and Lilith.
The day you sow the seed is not the same day you prune the leaves or harvest the flowers, but when working with this fairy fruit - time is of the essence. Unlike nuts and roots that can be stored and packed away for another time, freshly picked strawberries insist that we taste their succulence right away. Just like with the things we love, if we tuck strawberries away for another day, their sweetness will spoil. Ovid said that strawberries were gifts from the wild - growing bigger, heartier, and more desirable if untouched by human hands.
The magick of strawberries lives in the Brothers Grimm’ The Three Little Men in the Wood, when a girl ventures into the woods during the heart of winter. Her wicked stepmother demands the girl stay away until her basket is full of ripe berries. Our maiden knows this task is impossible, for the outdoors are carpeted in snow.
But, our heroine has courage, and so, wearing a paper dress and carrying the crust of bread, she ventures into the trees, further than she’s ever been. To her surprise, she finds a cottage with smoke spiraling up from the chimney. Three men invite her inside, and she warms herself with their fire. She asks the men if they’ve any strawberries growing nearby. The men chuckle at the girl's silly question, and respond with one of their own - might she share some bread? The girl hands over what's left of her hardened crusts, and the men are joyous. They tell her to sweep the snow from the cobblestone path, and while she sweeps, the men cast three blessings in her direction:
She will grow more beautiful with each passing day, one declares. And each time she speaks, a gold coin will appear on her tongue, the second one decides. And when it comes time for her to marry, she will meet a kind, loving soul, the third man concludes.
The girl sweeps and sweeps, and just as she finishes cleaning the cobblestone path, she uncovers a wild patch of berries! She fills her basket, leaves some scarlet handfuls for her friends, and bids the men of the forest farewell. When she returns home, her stepmother eats the berries, and, one by one, the men’s prophecies are brought to fruition. Thanks to a bit of courage, a trip to the forest, and patch of curious berries, the maiden lives happily ever after.
In folk stories and fairy tales, strawberries can be our full moon and a joyous light at the end of a harrowing tunnel, but stories of their cousin, the blackberry, are a bit thornier.
The blackberry is the dark moon, a shadow that goes bump in the night. Associated with vampires, fairies, and witches, blackberries banish, repel, and protect. Legend says that if blackberry vines grow on your property, local vampires will lose their thirst for blood. Instead, they’ll be drawn to the thorns and buds and berries, and when the sun rises the next morning, the drooling monsters will be turned to dust.
Unlike strawberries, blackberries don't ripen until the start of harvest season. By then, most of the plants have shriveled up and gone crispy, but garden entrances framed by blackberry are just begining to fruit - an incredibly lucky occurrence. Blackberry arches are said to be portals to the Otherworld, and any ailment is remedied by walking beneath their thorned canopy. As plant allies Brighid and Aphrodite, among other goddesses, the three-pronged leaves from strawberry and blackberry allude to holy trinities and regeneration. Try working with one of these plants for magickal workings around:
Melding the seen with the unseen - weaving your knowledge of the Above into the Below.
Lunar offerings, shapeshifting, and spells of duality.
Building relationships with sweetness, trees, Cardea (or another thorned or heart-centered goddess), ancestral and plant spirits.
Boundaries, limits, and the entry points of what we love.
Doorways and thresholds. What choices hinge upon their openings and closings?
