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It is strange that New Year’s resolutions—with their optimism and pep and demand for ALL THE ENERGY—arrive at the very moment of the year when energy levels are in a natural droop?

What an odd idea, to place the glut of goal-setting at the very moment of the year when we all, along with the earth underneath us, could benefit from a healthy dose of justgivemeaminute. It is like asking the tide to be high when the moon wants it low.

The Wheel of the Year spins on its axis, suggesting that rather than resolve, we revolve.

It is a series of eight ancient celebrations (or sabbats) tied to seasonal and agricultural shifts in the calendar, beginning back when these shifts were the calendar. Finding where the wheel begins is perhaps a fool’s errand: who can say where a circle starts and ends, and perhaps this mystery is the entire point?

For the sake of unwinding the Wheel into a list, though, let’s begin with the spring equinox, Ostara.

(These markers are for the northern hemisphere. In the southern hemisphere—hey Australia!—the equinoxes and solstices shift by six months.)

  • Mar 21-ish: Ostara (spring equinox)
  • May 1: Beltane
  • June 21-ish: Litha (summer solstice, longest day of the year)
  • Aug 1: Lunasa
  • Sept 21-ish: Mabon (fall equinox)
  • Oct 31: Samhain
  • Dec 21-ish: Yule (winter solstice, longest night of the year)
  • Feb 1: Imbolc

The Wheel of the Year is a good fit for knitters. Seasons matter to knitters because seasons matter to the production of fleece and fur. Knitters care about things like sourcing, water, local economies, and chemical-treated fibers because we now understand: what affects one affects all, the Wheel forever flattening any remaining illusions of isolation.

As Ostara approaches, the angle of the light changes in my Houston yard.

I love the Wheel of the Year.

I love its deep connection to earthly and celestial patterns and its even, measured pace. I love how it avoids the holiday clump at the year’s end and distributes its celebrations every 6-7 weeks instead, like stitches straightened and rearranged along a knitting needle.

The Wheel is teaching me about plants, foods, and rituals that grow organically from natural cycles. It teaches me that Samhain is a good day to bake a pumpkin pie, but it is also a good night to honor my mother, my first knitting teacher.

I reach for the Wheel to suggest a cycle for my knitting, too, to organize an often overwhelming amount of ideas and settle me instead into a natural rhythm.

January, for example, ends with Imbolc. Imbolc’s original meaning, “in the belly” in Celtic, recalls the lengthening days of winter when ewes are nearing pregnancy’s end and lambs are coming, and soon.

Imbolc is soft, dim, and hushed, a frosted riverbed before the rush of snowmelt. According to the Wheel, then, January is not a time of New Years resolutions but a time of quiet waiting for light and something new.

When I ask myself, “What shall I knit in January, responding to this tug of quiet?” the Wheel has a ready answer.

After the rush of Yule/Christmas/Hanukkah gifting, I cast on a sweater for myself (a Bolin cardigan), not because of a resolution but because I wanted to warm my arms with wool, the way only wool can.

Authors who write about Wheel traditions rarely mention knitting, however—a surprising omission, since seasonal cycles would affect knitting cycles. Surely a community who knew which constellation dipped below the horizon at sunrise would also know how to shear and spin.

Without perpetually open yarn stores and an endless supply of YouTube videos, knitting schedules would surely be dictated by local knowledge, recommending one thing in the middle of winter (Yule) and another thing at the end of summer (Lunasa). Since knitting is connected to things that matter to the Wheel, it was a surprise to note its lack.

Then one day, I came across a Samhain folktale, told by storyteller Morvern Graham. Samhain is the October 31 fire festival marking the beginning of winter and the night when the veil between worlds is at its thinnest. The tale features the Cailleach, the wise and ancient goddess of winter who knew that it was time for the land and its people to rest.

So she began to knit a great woolen cloak, one which she would lay over the land in order to bring about the dark seasons of the year.

Internet Archive Book Images, No restrictions, via Wikimedia Commons

The Cailleach worked hard on her cloak, knitting row upon row of stitches, but on the final day of October, a crow flew down to land on her shoulder, and started to whisper distracting questions into her ear.

The Caileach reached up a hand to shoo the crow away, but as she did so, she dropped a stitch in her knitting, leaving a gap in the veil between the worlds. From that gap, spirits, tricksters, and fae folk began to leak out to dance and play among the world of the living.

Perhaps the Wheel guards some of its secrets well, unearthed then re-earthed only by the oldest stories. Knitting was there, all along, quietly spinning with the Wheel.

About The Author

Cindy Dawson is a scholar and writer, and she currently teaches courses in religion at the University of Houston.

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34 Comments

  • You might be interested to know that La Bien Aimée yarns is devoting an entire collection to the Wheel of the year. Ref: https://www.labienaimee.com/products/wheel-of-the-year

    • Wonderful news.

  • Our own fairy tale!

  • Love this! Thank you

  • This is JUST what I needed to read today. Thank you!

  • THANK YOU!!! This is terrific!!!

  • I loved this so much! When in Dublin recently, I bought a large “map” with the Celtic wheel. Readers might be interested in Sinead Gleason’s novel HAGSTONE which focuses in Samhain!

  • Oh, thank you for this story! It was beautiful!

  • The Samhain folktale was delightful! Knitters certainly appreciate the havoc created by an errant dropped stitch.

  • Thank you! I knit mostly cotton dish rags. I try to keep ahead to have seasonal gifts at the ready, but always felt out of sync. Now I’m working on white cotton with a little sparkle as I look out at the snow. I probably won’t have it finished by spring, ha!

  • I’ve lived and worked with the Wheel of the Year since the mid-1990s, and I love adding wool and crafting to its many layers. I recommend “Lost Country Life” by Dorothy Hartley for info on how English farmers raised sheep and harvested wool during the agricultural year.

  • Thanks for this fascinating and thought-provoking post!

  • Thank you for this. I love and follow the wheel of the year and the Lunar cycles. I’d love to have a group that creates a knitting or crocheting experience in circle. I am going to take this to my heart and see what happens.
    much love
    jeanne

  • Wonderful way to start the day, reading this! Thank you.

  • So interesting, I didn’t know anything about this Wheel, thank you! And props to La Bien Aimée for innovating the Wheel of yarn, beautiful.

  • This makes so much sense. Beautiful essay. Look forward to seeing more of your writing.

    • Thank you for this. It is wonderful that the wheel of the year has been showing up more often lately. I love the connections to earth, the seasons and Celtic mythology, and now the added connection to knitting!

  • Thank you! I love the wheel concept of time.

  • What a wonderful piece to read steeped in nature and tradition. It was a lovely read first thing this morning, sipping my coffee during our cold winter when the earth is covered by a knitted white blanket of snow.

  • Aha! A new frontier to explore. Thank you for this fresh air of 2025. How late to the party is too late?

  • I love this. Thank you.

  • Loved this article. Thanks!

  • Thank you! I’ve never even heard of the Wheel of the Year.

  • Just popping it to wave hello from Katy.

  • Here’s another hello to Cindy from another Houstonian! Thank you for a very interesting post…I had not heard of the Wheel of the Year either, and always enjoy learning something new.

  • First time I have heard of this. So cool!

  • What a calm and elegant description of the rhythms many of us still feel in our souls. Loved this!

  • Thank you, I knew nothing about the Wheel of the Year. This is very interesting and I plan to read more of this subject.

  • This is so interesting that I must do more research !
    Thanks !

  • Like others, I have never heard of the Wheel. This was so interesting to read. I will certainly keep this in mind as I am choosing projects in the future. Thank you so much for writing this!

  • Thank you. Interesting article!

  • I love this! Thanks for bringing the Wheel into our consideration for our knitting habits. For some reason this reminds me of my favorite little Elizabeth Zimmerman book, Knitters Almanac.

  • Lovely.

  • I love this! I hope we can learn more from you about knitting and about the Wheel!

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