Remember That You Are Dust and to Dust You Shall Return
On Ash Wednesday, ashes from pussy willows consecrated the previous year on Palm Sunday are consecrated. The priest then makes a cross on the foreheads of the believers in church with these ashes, with the words "remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return."
We don’t have any willows on the land I work with, so in a bit of syncretism of ancestral folk practices I used the hazel branches that would have been typical of some of my Gaelic ancestors last year on Palm Sunday. I had saved them in the swag that hangs above the beautiful/holy corner that contained ritual plants from Easter, Pentecost and Midsummer.
I headed out to the garage this morning to avoid setting the smoke detector off and burned the branches. I then ground them through a sieve to make a powder.
Ashes from Ash Wednesday (so-called popelec), obtained by burning the ashes from the previous Palm Sunday, were considered a sacred object with protective powers in Czech folk tradition. Farmers sprinkled them on fields and meadows on Ash Wednesday or during Lent, or added them to livestock feed, to ensure a good harvest and protect animals from disease and evil forces.
It is said that whoever bakes bread on this day will be helped by the Lord God himself and all the saints. I decided today would be a good day to make the bird buns that I plan on releasing on St. Matthew’s Day (folkloric date)/my birthday when I drown Morana (nontraditional date to match our climate and kick off my devotional year). In addition to the usual “our fathers” and “hail Mary’s” that I chant while kneading the dough, I drew a cross on the dough with the ashes to match the one in my forehead. The remainder of the ashes will be divided in two—half to be sprinkled in some last offerings upon this land, and the other half saved for wherever we end up.