I have long loved the days of caught breath, the pause that falls between the years: an in-between time, a hiatus, a hush. But I did not know, until I learned from
, that the twelve days from St Stephen’s Day (in England, Boxing Day) until Epiphany on 6th January have an age-old significance and a name: the Celtic Omen Days. Each of these days, Kerri explains, represents a month: day one is January, and so on for the whole of the year. In this time, we may look for signs and symbols—for omens—that offer us messages about what to expect from the coming year: in our own lives, and in the wider world. The Omen Days are a time of magic, and of meaning; of course I was deeply drawn to this and so, for the first time (but not the last), I observed them.During these days, I was at home with my loves, I travelled to London to visit family and then I retreated to a boat on the canal to write.
I paid attention.
I hoped for visitations.
I looked for signs.
Next year holds so much uncertainty: for the world (dark with war and climate worry) and for my own life (with things changing and a new book coming). This feels like a time when listening is needed, along with reaching out and connecting. I looked to the Omen Days for a whisper of understanding, a hint of hope— and I think I found it. I offer no editing or explanation (I do not know enough about interpretation to be certain), but here, for you, is the raw list—a secret incantation—of what I noted:
1. January.
Golden hour sun glinting from behind trees, low mist. Clouds in the shape of waves. The full cold moon casting its glow across the valley. A star marked out in gold lights behind a small, high window in a lonely farmhouse on the edge of town.