Imbolc falls at the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Traditionally, it marks the moment when winter begins to loosen its grip and the first signs of new growth appear — even if the weather still feels cold and the landscape still looks bare.
In practical terms, Imbolc is about preparation rather than arrival. It’s a time for clearing, cleaning, and readying our homes, tools, and minds for the season ahead. Nothing needs to be finished yet. The work of Imbolc is simply to make space.
My Imbolc card centres on the snowdrop — a plant that understands patience. It doesn’t rush. It doesn’t demand attention. It quietly emerges, trusting that the conditions are right.
I was drawn to the snowdrop not just for its flower, but for the whole plant — bulb, roots and all. I wanted to include the unseen work as much as the visible bloom. The oval frame holds it like a small offering or specimen, something to pause with rather than pass by.
The process began, as it often does for me, with books.
I traced and simplified the form, letting go of detail in favour of line and gesture. From there, the drawing was transferred onto lino and carved slowly, deciding what to keep and what to remove. That act of carving always feels very aligned with this time of year — a quiet editing back.
Printing the card felt grounding and physical. I chose a deep, earthy green ink — more soil than spring leaf. I like that each print carries small variations; the texture and imperfections remind me that this is a hand-made process, not something uniform or rushed.
For me, these cards are not just visual markers of the year. They are prompts for small, practical acts — ways of aligning with the season rather than pushing against it.
Imbolc Intention
To clear space for what is beginning to grow.
To prepare the ground for the season ahead.
Imbolc Practice
Choose one small area to clean, sort, or reset — a drawer, a shelf, your bag, your desk.
As you do, let go of what feels spent or unnecessary.
Finish by putting one thing back with care, as an offering to what comes next.
This Imbolc card will be available as a limited run of A6 hand-printed lino prints, printed on thick cream paper.
→ You can find the Imbolc Snowdrop print in my Folksy shop here
(link to listing)
I wanted these prints to be something you can keep — tucked into a book, pinned to a wall, placed on a desk — a quiet seasonal companion rather than a card to be written and sent away.
Imbolc doesn’t ask for transformation or big declarations. It asks for readiness. For gentle clearing. For trust in what is already beginning, even if it can’t quite be seen yet.
Ena Green Designs 