The Gods of Midsummer

I went out to these pools looking for dragonflies and damselflies. There were lots of them, large reddish-brown ones gliding over the water with smaller electric-blue one on the edges. I couldn't get close enough from the path to get a decent pic of any of them, but I thought this dead tree, alive with lichens, made a good subject.  And there was so much else around these pools. Lots of unusual things like Marsh Cinquefoil and dwarf downy birches. But more than any of the individual things, the feeling of so much life all dancing to the tune of some magical impulse - the Green Man and the Green Lady dancing together through the longs days of the season of Midsummer. 
What should I call them? I've been discussing in some other forums whether we should know the names of the gods or whether they are beyond names and so we can choose whether or not to give them names as part of our communal religious life, or whether we should just experience them as what they are in themselves. I can never decide when I'm discussing what the right answer is. But when I'm out on a day like this all the questions dissolve and I just feel this being all around me.

Visions

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Thinking about Zero: the Fool, the Wanderer. Starting from nowhere on a voyage of discovery. Putting aside cards, books, images, and putting my mind into dream time, sliding across the edges of this world, this time, turning the deck of cards in the mind's eye, the eye that sees across the borders of the conscious world, the conscious time. Already the cards are peeling themselves off the envisioned deck, I walk the path of the Sorceror, the Shaman, the path where light is a soft glow at a narrow point before me and all around is dusky. The glow widens, another realm of misty colours opens up before me. Now I am the Visionary, the Seer, the Prophet. What do I see? The view clears to pastel green and pales further to clear light.

My dreams are laid out before me: each one from the notebook where I write them each morning, coming alive, resolved, what was puzzling and hazy coming into a different focus. I see things people, places as locations I can visit, anytime, for refuge, or for advice or just to be somewhere else for a while. That recurring place that came time and again into my dreams. Now I can find it. Now I know what and where it is. The ways are open for me. The strangeness still strange but not scary.

Unfinished business, but I can come again, knowing the way, but only when the gates are open. Until I am trusted with the key, which may be soon .....