Sunday, May 14, 2006

The Corn Trials



Any time of the year in the gardens, if you are quiet and still, you can hear the song that Corn sings as it calls itself into existence. To be sure the song cannot be heard over the din of engines, the prattle of the radio, or the twitter of idle chatter. The hoe and planting stick don't befuddle it nor mask it. In fact as the song builds toward its yearly climax, they provide the rhythm.

Corn is a Shaman. It sits in that world where there is neither time nor place and it sings its song. When the gardner hears the song, he pierces a hole in the ground through which Corn will emerge. But before Corn can manifest in this physical world, it must undergo a series of trials.

There are minor trials such as damping, fungus, cutworm, ear borer, and such. But I want to highlight the major trials which if corn fails, it will not emerge into this world.

First there is Trial by Crows. As soon as Corn germinates, the crows know it. They are savvy and canny above all creatures. They will seek out where the corn is planted and dig up the germinating kernels and eat them. Scarecrows are rather useless. There are two effective counter charms against them. The most effective is to place stakes all about the corn patches and string black thread between them in all directions. The thread in the wind sings its own song and the crows are wary of being trapped and stay away. But before Corn is ready for the web of thread, it is sometimes necessary to evoke a more ancient and grim remedy. For reasons know only to them, a crow will not enter a corn patch where there is a dead crow. So each spring the gardener marks out the sacrificial crows, the ones who will be reckoned fallen in battle and destined to sit on Odhin's shoulders like Hugin and Munin (thought and memory). The slain crows keep watch in the corn and though silent enough to our ears, they speak most eloquently to the other crows.

Next comes Trial by Wind. The wind gods swoop through the garden with a screaming laugh and try to pitch Corn down. Sometimes it is left twisted and toppled and broken, but seldom abated. Left to its own device Corn will stand up again. Some of the more tattered will need a staff to lean on which the gardener will give it. But never more than just to lean on. Corn is proud and any attempt to assist it in its resurection will cause its spirit to leave and it will break off its shamanistic journy of manifestation.

Next comes Trial by Racoon. Raccons are excellent judges of the ripeness of corn and after a few test forays into the patch, they will feast it out of existence in an night. For this we call in two allies. The first is Pumpkin. Pumpkin's (or Squash's) thick vines and broad leaves make it difficult for raccoons to look about them and see that no danger is afoot. The second ally is dogs. As Corn ripens, all the dogs are brought to the corn patches and moved about every few days.

If the gardener assists Corn to endure the tials, Corn will appear in this physical world and its song of manifestation will be complete. And when the pone is baked on the hearth fire and the satiated gardener wanders back to the corn patch amind the cool and dusk of fall, the nod and rasp and crackle of the Corn haulms on the quieted ear will fall into a rhythm. Once again Corn begins its song and starts on its journey to this world.