When I was small, and there were gales in late October, we used to try (unsuccessfully) to catch the leaves blown off the trees before they touched the ground. I think the rules were that you could make a wish, something I never got to try. But I would have wished for snow.
In this song, the windblown leaves are gathered and stored in special earthenware jars throughout the autumn while the singer prepares spiritually in anticipation of the sign. But there are two other elements.
One is that if a gale in high summer strips green leaves from the tree, they will be far more potent in the spell for snow than the attenuated autumn ones, so watch out - because you may release more energy than you bargained for.
The other element is actually true - there is a Polar Vortex, and in 2018, rogue air currents dislodged it from its normal habitat above the North Pole, temporarily cancelling our usual warm south-west winds in favour of a fierce blast from Siberia, which we called the Beast from the East. Obviously someone released an irresponsibly potent store of leaves, which then flew up and knocked the Polar Vortex off its perch.
We had some very intense gales this last August, so who knows? But if anyone asks, it wasn’t me.
lyrics
When the gale rises high,
lifting leaves in the autumn sky,
catch them as they pass you by,
store them away for snow!
When they swirl all around,
never let them touch the ground.
Keep their power safely bound,
use it to bring the snow!
Leaves of scarlet-gold
lose their grip when the year grows old,
but the strongest leaves
fly in the high summer storms.
Though the gale tears them free,
they keep all their potency;
use them very sparingly
casting a spell for snow!
While the leaves sleep,
building up their energy,
you must align yourself to the North.
Walk the high paths,
facing the coldest air;
make yourself a conduit,
a wire from the North.
Let yourself be known;
watch with a sideways eye.
Open your mind’s back door
to the North.
And then it starts,
the slumbering leaves awake,
the waiting crow calls,
the windows start to shake.
Now comes the moment
when the leaves are released.
Let the jars be opened,
let the leaves taunt the gods,
bring their wrath from the
north and east!
So they fly far from here,
making waves in the atmosphere;
this could even be the year
Christmas is crowned with snow!
Will the air turn cold?
Will those green leaves be too bold?
Will the Polar Vortex lose its
way in the storm?
We must all wait and see -
make a wish on the Christmas tree.
Was it chance, or was it me,
casting a spell for snow?
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